let me give you the tour . . .

Welcome to my humble abode. I've been meaning to do a big blog tour of my house since, well, since I bought it, but the crazed fixings-up have kept me busy, and the house kind of scary and unpresentable for a long time. (Case in point.) So this little tour will be taking us through the parts of the house that do not look frightening.

First we have the "formal entryway." That was how it was described in the ad, and it cracks me up endlessly because it is tiny. Wee. Both itsy and bitsy. The picture above is all there is to it. I have had closets bigger than this. "Formal entryway" makes it sound enormous and grand, like we should put in marble and a sweeping spiral staircase and a chandelier.

Then we have the living room, now a lovely apple/mossy green color. This is where the Best Roommate Ever and I hang out in the evenings, engaging in our grueling Spinster Training Sessions by watching Jeopardy and hours of Murder She Wrote on DVD.

Here is the kitchen:
The walls are the exact color of tumeric. I've always wanted an orange kitchen, and now I have it. I rule! The cabinets are all IKEA, and I put every single one together myself. So worth it in the end, but the screwdriver blisters were brutal, let me tell you. The kitchen gets the best light in the late afternoon, and it's so warm and orangy-golden. I love it.

BRE painted the bathroom this beautiful blue all by herself on her day off. She went over to the house, put up one coat of paint, went back to the apartment, spent four hours packing and moving boxes to the house, and then put up a second coat of paint. There are no words.

I'm still undecided about the mirror situation. The bathroom came with a medicine cabinet, which I am loathe to part with, but we got a bigger sink, so the placement is very weird. Mom found these great little mirrors for me with leaves and shells and things on them, and words like "believe", "create" and "inspire". I like this placement and I hope it looks more organic and natural than weird.

I hope you enjoyed the partial tour of my little house! More pics to come as I enforce civilization and order throughout the place.

finished objects everywhere!

Well, it's definitely been one thing after another here in the Land of Wading Lightly. Between the Best Roommate Ever's mom (who is doing great!), an old friend succumbing to cancer, nuclear-meltdown-level work drama for me and BRE, and Jaymie licking a cut on his foot until it became a big nasty infection requiring antibiotics and e-collars, we've been run ragged. Fortunately, all the fretting, worrying and carrying on has been fantastic for my productivity, both knitting- and painting-wise.

The living room and the entryway both got their second coats while BRE's mom was having surgery, and then touch-ups over the weekend.

I finished these warm and snuggly beauties, and I am done, done I tell you, with Felted Clog knitting for this winter. The pattern is awesome and I would wholeheartedly recommend it. I really like the marble-ized effect you can get knitting with two different colors.

I also finished (woo-hoo!) my Brookside sweater, at long last. It is every bit as warm and cozy and pretty as I was hoping it would be.


For now, BRE and I are recovering our strength, hoping for more boring times to come. All this excitement has worn us out.

Satellite Kitten says: I'm on ur TV, boosting ur signal.

Smooth is my middle name.

Of course, my first name is Not At All and my last is In Any Way. I was at my local hippy grocery store last week, when I saw the hottest guy. He looked just like Seth Green, only taller and hotter, if you can believe it. We made eye contact . . . and I turned and fled. Sigh. Smooth like a really bumpy thing.

painting party

They say that friends help you move, but real friends help you move bodies. Well, I didn't have any bodies that needed moving (this time), but I did have a living room that desperately needed livening up. So last week, a bunch of my friends came over and we had a painting party.

Miss Rereading Proust, thinking she's backed up out of frame, but I was too quick for her.

Princess Jana Banana, taking a much-deserved break.

Gotta Knit, who will probably never forgive me for posting an unflattering picture of her butt on the internet. Disclaimer: her butt is much better-looking than those pants would have you believe.
And Carina, Wielder of the Paint Roller.

Ladies, I couldn't have done it without you, and I love you bunches! Sorry for posting unflattering pictures of you on the internet.

we need a better word for this

I took off my Monkey socks the other evening, beginning the soothing process of my nightly rituals, preparing me for slumber.

And noticed this.

The squeamish among you will want to avert your eyes.

It isn't pretty.

Consider yourself warned.




And all thoughts of sleep were indefinitely postponed as I flailed about the room, swearing with impressive vigor and enthusiasm. My rational mind, bless its little heart, put forth a number of completely rational suggestions, like, "OK, there's a hole in your handknit sock. It's not the end of the world."
The rest of my mind, the part that was vacillating wildly between flailing and passing out, shrieked, "Screw you, rational mind! It is a giant *&%ing HOLE IN MY HANDKNIT SOCK!!!"
Rational mind: "Yes, but you can fix that."
Flailing mind: "Screw you, rational mind! It is a giant *&%ing HOLE IN MY HANDKNIT SOCK!!!"
Rational mind: "Calm down. I can totally fix it. All you need is the leftovers of the yarn, a few size 0 sock needles, and I will handle everything."
Flailing mind: "Screw you, rational mind! It is a giant *&%ing HOLE IN MY HANDKNIT SOCK!!! Also, this is a completely rational and proportional response to finding a giant *&%ing HOLE IN MY HANDKNIT SOCK!!! I will calm down when I am good and ready!"

Eventually, we all reached a compromise, and my flailing mind settled down to hyperventilate quietly while my rational mind began to pick up stitches and begin the repair.

I know they're called "darns", but let's be honest, they should be called "*&%%^#$ (*&^ (*& ^$#@ $#!!^".

kitty knows best

I found a cute basket while out shopping a few weeks ago. I had no idea what I was going to use it for, but I knew I'd be sorry if I didn't get it. I brought it home, set it on the floor, turned my back for one second, and when I turned around, I saw this.

Silly human. It's a kitty holder. Of course.

All clear!

We're in the clear! (Just like BRE's mom's shiny new arteries!) She came out of surgery just fine, and all is well. Thanks for your support!

an idle Tuesday

Everyone, please keep the Best Roommate Ever's mom in your thoughts. She's currently in surgery, undergoing a quintuple bypass. BRE flew down this morning. I'm taking care of the cat-monsters and trying to figure out if there's a way to fix open-heart surgery with knitting.