The Edith Chair

My husband Joe and I have been talking about getting a new couch for ages. Actually he’s been talking about it. I’ve been avoiding the talk. Not because I don’t want a new couch, I’ve been avoiding it because I know what one piece of new furniture means. It’s a slippery slope. It’s also not that I’m frugal and I don’t want to spend the money, it’s just that I’m fine with it all. Yeah the sofa wasn’t perfect, but wasn’t horrible. It didn’t smell. It didn’t have visable stains. Was it comfortable? No. But I got over that like 5 years ago.

In the end, we went down the slope and got a new coach and a new rug, lamps, a new recliner for him and a chair for me. And an ottoman. A small one.

Years ago, shopping with him for anything new in the house would be an experience full of all the emotions. Laughter, sadness, tears, yelling, forgiveness, and finally reconciliation. Joe’s got opinions. Lots of them. My girlfriend April and I talk about this all the time. Her husband Pat has opinions too. We dream of husbands who don’t give a shit about furniture, wall colors, curtains, etc. I know men like that exist. The kind that just show up one day and see a whole new living room and say,” nice” and then go back to their football game.

In our house, we have discussions before I pick up a new spatula. No joke.

But! (this is where I back track) He’s gotten better. Mellow(ish).

This time around it was pleasant, easy, dare I say…fun.

Or maybe we’ve just both gotten older and decided to bend. A little.

We knocked it all out in about a week. In addition to what we knew we’d have to buy – Joe found a chair for me. He calls it the Edith chair. Are you old enough to know what I’m talking about? As in Archie and Edith? As in All in the Family? Google it.

Anyway I finally have a chair of my own. But that’s not the best part. The best part is that we situated it, by chance I swear, right across from a window. Do you know what that means?

It means that on the weekends I can sit there with my coffee and watch the neighborhood go by. I can see all the dog walkers and joggers.  I can also see the teens getting off the bus with their huge backpacks slugging their way home. Seems boring to you? Not me. I love it.

Here’s a shot of my view in my chair (working from home and daydreaming out the window) and my chair. Sorry I said “my chair” like a hundred times. I’m excited. About my chair.




12 years ago we bought a table.
Big, sturdy,bright and cheerful.
Through the years we put it to task.
It’s been an ironing board, a bar, a buffet, an art table, a crafting table, a homework dump, and occasionally a place we eat our meals.
It’s…weathered. Distressed.
For the last 5 years my husband has hated that table.
Hated. A table. Like a normal person hates war or poverty.
He obsessed the dings, the scratches, the peeling paint, and the permanent mosaic of stains.
For the last two years I’ve covered the offending table with a tablecloth or place mat.
But it still bothered him.
I didn’t love it either. But I get over stuff quicker.
So last weekend we found out that a lovely family had moved into our community and into the country after years of saving up.
They proudly bought their first home but were short on furniture.
Are you thinking what I thought?
Do good and stop the hate?
Things moved quickly after that.
The family picked up the table and seemed thrilled.
My husband and I went out and we bought a brand new table.
The heavens rejoiced – or atleast my husband did.
It was delivered yesterday afternoon.
By dinner there was a scratch on it.
It was never the table. It was us.

Old scratched beauty and new scratched beauty.



The point of this blog is?

When I sit down to write this blog – usually very late into the night or very early in the morning – I debate about the things I want to tell you.  Do I share my political and sociological views? Do I tell you an amusing (to me) story about my kiddies or husband? Do I use it as a pulpit to voice my very strong opinions on restaurants not buttering toast anymore (an outrage!)?

I do have stories of my semi-twisted childhood to share – and other stories of how I’m making a semi-twisted childhood for my own kids – but then something silly happens. And I need to let you know. Immediately.

Yesterday I went to go get the mail. And hilarity ensued. Not really.

We are very fortunate to have good neighbors – I’ve heard plenty of horror stories to know that.  As I’m getting the mail, I ran into our fantastic retired neighbor walking her dog. She stopped to chat – I have a ton in common with retired folks. Mentally I’m half way there.

As we chatted, I opened the mailbox.  The only thing we’d gotten is our Restoration Hardware Fall catalog.  She stopped talking.  “Is that a magazine?”, she asked.  Um. Nope. It’s a home good store…”I’ve never seen a catalog so thick. It’s like a dictionary!” She was horrified. “Isn’t that awful how they waste paper.” “I’m shocked that in this day and age of going green stores still waste their money on that.” I clutched the book harder and harder as she talked. I was nodding the whole time, giving her the appearance of solidarity.  We laughed about the craziness of it all and I told her I was just as shocked.

But inside. Deep inside. I loved the catalog. I wished it were twice as thick. Killing twice as many trees.

We said our goodbyes and I quickly went back inside to flip through every inch of that evil thing.

This is why I can’t write about national and global issues.  When I sit down and think about the things you need to know – stuff like this climbs right to the top.  I have very smart friends and family who tell me they could never write a blog – too much work. To them I say, behold. A post about…a very thick catalog.  I’m pretty sure a monkey could do this.

Here’s the culprit that derailed what would have been a very smart and intellectual post. Not.

*please note that the Ikea catalogs are thicker, but smaller in overall size.






Design Envy

Did I ever tell you that I work from home? I do. It’s swell.

Last summer, when I decided to make the switch, my husband suggested we convert our guest room into a home office. We ripped up the old carpet, put down wood floors, got rid of our old futon, painted the room, bought a sofa bed, desk and chair and then…nothing. I haven’t done another thing to it.  I sit there staring at blank walls and no window coverings.  I did buy a cool rug – but it’s way too small for the room.


Blank space in our house is no surprise.  The walls in my living, dining room and family room were empty for a good 3 years after we moved in.  Even now people use the words “open” “uncluttered” and “low-key” to describe the house, when I think they really mean “undecorated” “unadorned” “sterile” and “boring”.  We do have pictures of our kids up – a LOT of pictures – but that doesn’t count.

I watch those HGTV shows and get mildly inspired to do something different. And then – nothing.

You know what doesn’t help? A husband who would live in a plain, white box if he could.  His idea of clutter is what normal people call living.

Sorry – displacing my anger. It’s not his fault. I just have decorating paralysis (except at Christmas – when I turn into Holly Holiday and it looks like the North Pole threw-up in my house).

One of my good friends in NYC knows how to do it. She’s got an amazing eye for all things beautiful.  When I had gone to see her a few weeks ago, I secretly snapped these photos. I’m sure she won’t mind me sharing them with the world (on that note, welcome to my blog Israel and the Netherlands, I’m glad to have you!).

A few years ago she went on a camping trip out west and took some amazing shots. She’s a great photog too – annoying right?

She simply enlarged the photo and had it printed on canvas. Perfect. Why can’t I do that? Well, I can. But will I? Probably not.

Try to ignore the stunning woodwork on the walls, the beautiful club chairs and country bench and focus on the canvas art.


She had it done through one of the many websites doing canvas printing. I love it. I hereby promise to do something creative and fun with my home! Maybe.

She also had a smaller one done for the entry hall – this is another one of her photographs.

You should see her kitchen. So great. I couldn’t take a secret picture of that because she was in there the whole time.

There’s always my next visit.

Sick, Twisted and Funny – to me

We’ve had some really freaky weather lately.  Have you noticed? You know what I notice? Now that I’m 40, I talk about weather all the time.  All of a sudden, weather is primary in my life.

Anyway, we’ve had some storms.  These storms made me think of last year’s storms.  A couple of them were strong enough to wreak havoc and mayhem.   During a particularly bad night – we woke up to find our backyard a mess.  Another umbrella dead, table upside down, chairs turned over. Pier One cushions torn from chairs – it was ugly. You get the picture – but just in case, I took a picture.

A few months later, we had a nice little family BBQ in the backyard.  It was loads of fun. One of our good friends couldn’t make it – and because I think I’m hilarious – I sent her the below.  Yes it’s two different seasons, didn’t care. Still funny. Well, to me.

Here’s a text by text:

Me:  So sorry you missed the fun – here’s a before and after shot from the party!! xoxo!

Her: What’s wrong with you?

Me: I’m a loser

Her: A big one