I moved my blog headquarters from the boudoir to the formal dining room?
Yeah, that didn’t work. It lasted one day. I am once again blogging from the comfort of our bedroom.
However, I did manage to find a way to store my electronics when I am not using them. I picked up this Joseph Phelps wine box for free back in January while visiting their winery. Now I keep all (most of) my bloggy stuff in one central area instead of strewn about the bedroom.
Remember when I wanted to replace the buttons on this Ralph Lauren jacket from 1996?
It was so old the navy blue buttons faded to an ugly shade of purple.
I searched without luck. Then my seamstress, Christina, searched, looking as far north as Eureka (six hours away) while visiting family and southward to Marin: no suitable buttons.
The day Christina and I met at our local Jo-ann’s to pick out fabric for the LBD, we decided to look in the button section one more time before it went to donation. And there they were: ten perfectly sized, perfectly colored buttons. And here is the not-so-new but improved jacket today:
Remember when I de-cluttered our kitchen countertops?
They went from this:
For weeks, I felt as though I was in someone else’s empty kitchen. Last weekend, I reorganized the pantry and selected the items I missed seeing: balsamic vinegar and olive oil brought home from Italy, French fleur de sel, a tiny ceramic pot from Siena, and my favorite teas, lugged home from Paris, along with my cherished Mariage Freres tea pot. I also returned our tea kettle to its proper place on the stove top.
Incredibly, the island has remained junk-free and has ceased to be the dumping ground that it once was. Hurrah!
Finally, remember when I stopped complaining for a day? And afterward, I said I was going to cut back on mentioning each tinge of discomfort or every inconvenience?
Well, I am still complaining, but not as much.
I notice that every time I say something to my husband like, “My back hurts” he says, “My back hurts too. I think it’s out again. It’s really painful and sore! I guess I did too much yard work, or maybe it’s from working on the RV”.
Or perhaps I’ll mention, “I am really congested.” He immediately sniffs, demonstrating for me how congested he also is and says, “Me too! I can’t even breathe through my nose. I am so stuffed up! I think I’ll go do another nasal rinse.”
This annoys me. A lot. I decided that there must be a way for me to complain without him one-upping me. One morning I said with a straight face, “My uterus hurts.” He just looked at me, blankly. Then I asked, “And you. Does your uterus hurt?”
We both burst out laughing and it became our running joke for the remainder of the day. We went down the list of gender-specific body parts – don’t worry, I won’t elaborate – cracking up every time one of us introduced a new one. So uncouth, yet so funny.
Now, I mostly keep my complaints to myself because I don’t want to hear his follow-up complaints. And if I do bellyache about something, we either laugh it off, or I get another blank stare accompanied by an “I’m sorry”. Which is all I wanted in the first place.