I was watching TV last night — a show that is totally mundane and I shouldn’t have been giving ratings to, but was actually halving it with the Olympics, switching back and forth. I won’t say what the show was, except that it may or may not have starred the daughter of a Hollywood producer — a daughter who used to star in a show about a certain zip code. LAME! I know. I even felt tinges of guilt while I was watching the show, because essentially, it’s a show about nothing. The show makes me smile, though, when this actress, while shopping for a new house, talks about how she can’t afford a certain one. Good one! I’m sure money is a top concern in your life. Continue reading “Let’s ban this word, OK?”
Oh, happy day
Meanwhile, back in Iowa …
Apparently, our bank’s phones have been hijacked and they are unable to provide an update with our home improvement loan. I know, I could call them too, but I need to take a breather after the weekend I just had. Assuming that our renovation will get going soon, it was the perfect weekend to precede what will probably be a crazy building mess. School starts next week, which will just add to the joy that is Everyday Life. Goodbye, summer, hellooooooo classes! Continue reading “Meanwhile, back in Iowa …”
The soundtrack of the fall
Who knew that such an ugly bug would become a part of my life? I’m talking about cicadas — big, ugly bugs that molt on tree bark and leave behind shells that make you shudder when you find them. There’s been more than one occasion where I’m walking under one of the trees in our backyard and I happen to see a big chunk o’ somethin’ stuck to the tree. Squinting and gradually drawing closer, I see that it’s a cicada molting. (I mean “molting” as a noun there; I don’t torture cicadas trying to shed their shells by letting my boys molest them in mid-process.) Then I like to pluck it off the tree and let it serve as entertainment for my two bug-lovin’ boys. Continue reading “The soundtrack of the fall”
Fun with 50s ads, Part II
I kind of got on a roll the other day when I was gathering up all these humorous ads from the Ladies’ Home Journal collection from the 50s. Here’s another round of some great ads, with a few more manic zombies thrown in. (Yes, I realize that “manic zombie” is a bit of an oxymoron. But it works for me.) Continue reading “Fun with 50s ads, Part II”
Things I’d like to have, and things I’m glad I don’t
Yet another day of waiting for the bank. <sigh> In the meantime, I’d like to share some pretty — and some not-so-pretty — things with you. There are tons of pictures I could have selected for this post, but I narrowed it down to three. Continue reading “Things I’d like to have, and things I’m glad I don’t”
The hunt for the perfect chrome cabinet pull
In one of my earlier posts, I detailed our current (ugly) cabinet hardware, and how disappointed I was to find out it was original to the house. It would have been easier to discard that cabinet hardware if it had been an 80s addition or the like. Continue reading “The hunt for the perfect chrome cabinet pull”
Fun with ads from the 50s
I love perusing through 50s magazines, but there’s one detail that has started to disturb me. I understand that the ads of the day wanted to portray a feeling of happiness. After all, a new dishwasher = happiness, does it not? Continue reading “Fun with ads from the 50s”
A holding pattern
Last Monday, I got a call from my contractor that said he could start as soon as we could give him a check for materials so Menards could deliver sometime this week. One problem: we’re waiting on the bank. Actually, we were waiting on one final estimate. In fact, we waited for that estimate all week! Finally I just wrote down a number that was at least twice as much as the job would actually cost (shower install) and gave the numbers to the bank. Now, we wait.
Oh, it’s going to be a good day when that money comes through. I’m going to be ordering that cracked ice chrome table faster than a wino hits the jug. Continue reading “A holding pattern”
A breath of fresh air
I really hate having the A/C on 24/7, but I do so for my husband’s sleeping comfort and for the kids. Oh, all right, I guess I don’t exactly want to be sleeping in a room clogged with 80% humidity, either. But it makes me feel like such a wuss. It’s almost as I can hear one of my Swedish ancestors while he shakes his head, muttering “WE didn’t have air conditioning when we lived in the log cabin, and we survived just fine.”
Then I realize that my Swedish ancestors probably would have sawed off their right arms in order to enjoy A/C in the middle of a Midwestern August, and it makes me feel better.
(Now, if I can only get my ancestors to quit talking to me, I can shake this guilt complex once and for all.)