|Crepe myrtles, one of my favorite Southern flowers, in bloom|
Attention, People of Earth:
So anyway, I got a charming postcard from an old friend (isn’t that quaint?) which reminded me I needed to attend to my own quaint writing medium and now here we all are. Welcome back.
New Orleans? Fabulous, darlings. I swept through thrift stores, junk malls, and Good Antique Shoppes with equal abandon, flinging the bucks like a drunk sailor in a cathouse. mrpeenee’s credit card has a new, possibly permanent dent in it, but it was worth it.
I found a beautiful big dining table with a huge dark green marble top, a pair of charming antique armchairs, reupholstered in a lovely grey and white stripe, a couple of chest of drawers, a very pretty chandelier that will be much improved by having some of its fussier crystals removed, lamps and a vase. I also met with the cabinet maker who’s doing the kitchen and picked out the marble and tiles for the baths and the kitchen and the bricks for the patio.
|Also, I got to see for the first time the couch I bought online. Sweet.|
|Ooh, also, a lovely little drop leaf desk. We must have seen fifty of them, or more. Where on earth could they all have come from suddenly?|
|Chandelier in a box. I rather like the minimalist implications, but I think I might hang it without the cardboard, what the hell.|
My talent for arbitrary decisions stood me in good stead; I chose the bricks in under five minutes. It probably took us longer to park. I just don’t see the point of dithering, especially over something like patio flooring. I’ve discovered it seems so overwhelming when you’re standing in the middle of eleventy million options, but then once they’re installed you never critically look at them again. After all, they’re just bricks, or light fixtures, or faucets. You see something you like, take it. Perfection is not achievable, says the buddha. Or mrpeenee. One of us, anyway.
|Quiet, please. Can’t you see tattoo buddha is taking a nap?|
But that’s only in person. I came home to nail down the bathtubs and sinks and stoves and whatnot online and once again the internet with its vast universe of choices reduced me to a blob of indecision. Until, that is, I recalled how effective cutting myself off from porn until I at least picked out a goddam tub had been.
And it’s a good thing naked muscly men are such an effective driver for me since renovation on the house has suddenly shifted into some kind of warp speed. When I left there, all the interior walls had been ripped out and the floors in the bathrooms were nonexistent. Now word reaches us framing has finished and walls are going up. Hoo hoo! Walls! Floors! All kinds of cool house stuff.