Are You Ever Done Decorating?

I have a popcorn ceilings with sparkly sprinkles in my house.

I have the mellow yellow hardwood floors with small planks. Old as hell. In a couple of our rooms we think the wood is either over 100 years old or nearly.

I have slatted blinds, some plastic, in every room nearly. Oy vey the dust.

I have rooms that have not been repainted since 2003 or so (I think).

I have newish rugs in the living room and dining room that I regret getting.

I have a loft bedroom that is not not not cute. Could be. Is not.

I have telephones you have to dial.

I have some furniture from Ikea.

I have a bathroom that can only be described as a mashup of the unpopular.

I have a set of antlers up in the Big Room from a deer I hit with a Jeep Wagoneer in the 90s. Just read on a decorating site how "tired" this look is. Sigh!!

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I love to decorate. And I hate it. No, that's a lie. I love it.

This list is not a complaining list. It's just a list. I love my house. But after the holidays you can't help but look around and see a few things that could be changed, things that you will never change, and things that you can't wait to change.

I'm picking slowly!

Meanwhile, here is what I landed on for the new pendants in the kitchen. I'm now on the hunt for some type of different light bulbs. Regular bulbs cast a very harsh light since there is no translucent shade to buffer it. Ideas?

Cat on counter. Don't judge. Mess everywhere. Judge away!  :)

The Standoff

I think it got up to about 0 degrees yesterday.

When Spud went to sleep for his morning nap I went into the laundry room to wash a huge pile of towels that I we constantly have. Huge pile. Wet towels. I'm a towel nut apparently. The bin in the laundry for dirty towels in nearly always full or getting there.

I fill my front loader, put in the perfect (ahem) mixture of laundry soap and Oxyclean (how do I love thee Oxyclean??) Hit the magic sequence on the dashboard and I hear . . .

errrrrrr  errrrrr  errrr

Memory immediately tells me, frozen pipes.

Oh crapski!! Shiite and shinola! Why do I live here? It's freakin' cold! Damn and damnation!

Okay, I might have uttered a different set of words, but you get my drift.

I call Pup.

"The laundry room pipes are frozen!" I exclaim.

"Wha?" says my flummoxed Pup.

"Yes!" I repeat myself.

"Okay," he says. "Okay, you need to go downstairs, check the plugs, and plug in the heat tape."

My mind goes blank pretty much after, "Okay." Following complicated directions for taking care of the downstairs stuff flummoxes me! In the end, nothing I did helped and nothing was working and pipes remained frozen.

Grrr!!

Pup comes home. We discuss. He looks at me with his Pup-look. You might know a similar look. The look I myself might have when we discover the dog has poopied in the Big Room because we were gone too long. The look that says, I don't want to do what I know I have to do.

We stare at each other for a few minutes. Me with a determined look that says (and I might have even said this out loud), "I will not be schlepping dirty clothes to that horrible laundromat. Nope."

His stare says, "I won't, won't, won't crawl into that yucky place! I won't!" I swear I even saw his bottom lip poke out for a second or two.

Pup has this look because he knows he has to crawl into a crawl space under our dining room. It's kinda horrible there and I wouldn't want to do it.

He makes a few calls. Asks for a bit of advice. He runs to hell the Home Depot. Comes home with a solution. He schleps all of it downstairs where I hear about 20 minutes of, "Crapski! Shiite and shinola! Why do we live here? It's freakin' cold! Damn and damnation!"

You all know I'm lying. His language is colorful and peppered with things that would make a sailor blush (hey, why do we assume sailors swear like hell? Hmm . . . wondering . . . )

This morning, I wander into the laundry room, try the water, PLONK! It's running and the towels are washing as I write.

Oh I love that man. That pouty, don't-want-to-do-it man!

Honestly, I hate cleaning up after the dog and totally get it. Some adult tasks are horrible!

Smooches and how you stayin' warm?

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You

Pup and I live in a mostly sweet little neighborhood of 1960s housing in a part of Minneapolis that is neither totally the hood, nor very swanky. Just a middle-class neighborhood full of diversity and hope. Growing younger all the time which is fantastic!

Our neighbors are great. I wouldn't call our street the kind of street that is in each other's faces all the time, but we're a fairly friendly bunch.

Then the Hillbillys moved in. A motley crew. I wouldn't have thought much about them except the youngish man that owns the house made certain to come over and introduce himself. A talker - letting me know how "people come and go" a lot because he's so generous to all his friends. And how he's on disability for some physical thing so he's home most of the time. A little alarm went off at the time for me, but I did squash it down a bit.

My schedule is rather fluid and since our office window faces the street the Hillbilly's house is in full view when I'm working or goofin'. I noticed a lot of traffic coming and going. You know - car pulls up, a guy (usually) hops out, goes into the house, is out in about five minutes. Yep.

We even witnessed the police do an early morning raid complete with battering rams. But, as I've said, it was back to business in a day or so. Blech!

Last week Pup got stuck just off the street while plowing (I kvetched charmingly about it in a post) and two of the Hillbilly's came on the front stoop to watch and smoke.

So yesterday I'm innocently watching K-Spud in the afternoon. He's taking a little snooze on the couch in his little co-sleeper bed, I'm watching Ellen or lurking on Facebook - something totally useful I'm certain!

I text Pup a photo, but through the magic of Awesome Google Photos (or some such feature) it took my snaps and made this for me . . .

I think I laughed for a half hour. Had to hold the Spud so he could drift off back to sleep. In spite of Gigi still shaking with laughter. He'll get used to it. Poppy and I are so classy!

Is schadenfreude going to send me straight to hell? Will I see any of you smoochie-hoochies there? Please come visit me.

What's on My Samsung?

Well hello there.

You've missed me.

Oh come on - I know it! I have a face just made for missing.

Let me have my dreamy thoughts. It could happen!

What a summer it has been yes? Gorgeous around these parts. Lovely, balmy, calm, and just a tad - umm - just a tad . . . you know what? I'm not going to finish that thought.

Here's a few shots of some of what I've been doing.

Camping.

George driving.

I thought my dad needed to know about this. Since he's from New Ulm Minnesota and all. 

This made me giggle because I'm a 12 year-old boy. Yup.

New addition to the Chez Emerson zoo. This is Oliver.

I managed to re-bloom an orchid! I was disproportionately excited. 

Got new patio furniture. Made Pup move it from one spot to the next. He's still speaking to me.

Another shot of the crazy-eyed Oliver. He's kinda cute. 

I have become one of those people that takes too many photos of her pets. Soon you will find kitty litter in my hair and I will tenderly pick fur off of my leggings. That I wear as pants. People will whisper, "She used to be so fun! She used to be so stylish!" Gah

What have you been doing this summer?

Monday Monday, Can't Trust That Day

We hosted a party over the weekend here at the Chez Emerson.

A murder mystery dinner.

Which was so much fun and surprisingly get-into-it-able. Is that not a word? I didn't have a word. But trust me, the participants were very fun with their character development. My Sarah Bella called us LARPERS (I think). It's some sort of totally geeky thing where the game players dress up in costumes. So yes, we were larpers. It makes me laugh. Who doesn't like a good role play now and again? I'm winking here. Oh come on - you all have done it SOMEWHERE. It's fun!

We did this party as part of our quarterly GNO (girl's night out) and I think it was a great success! Quite a few in this group are good actors. And good lookin'.

But this post isn't only about the party of larpers or the details of the party; it's also about my Sarah Bella. Who not only was strong armed by her momma (me) into helping us stay on course, but was pimped out by us as a server, bartender, cook, party motivator, and slave.

She dressed the part perfectly. Black slacks, white blouse. I gave her a Mardi Gras bow tie to complete her outfit.

She greeted guests at the door, took their coats, gave them their name tags, got them drinks, brought their food contributions to the party room, and, in one case, cooked one guest's cheese dip.

And, most importantly, kept us on track. Because I know that left to our own devices our train would have left the track very very quickly.

I'm the luckiest momma in the world.

Love you my Sarah Bella.

I Am Vicious!

Picture this is you will . . .

Pet supper time at the Chez Emerson.

For some reason feeding the pets every day is a bit of a tug-of-war between me and Pup. He's one of the youngest in his family and I can just hear what he was like as a little kid, "But I did it yesterday!" Make sure you read that with the proper portion of whiney-voice. Ha!

I'm the oldest in my family so I'm used to bossing people around. As I've mentioned millions of times. I also remember that bossing didn't always work on my younger siblings.

Okay . . . so it is pet supper-time; I'm doing the honors. We have George, the lovable 75 pound dog of the huge noggin. We have Calvin, coconut-minded cat that is on Prozac (please don't ask - vet is even in awe of this), and we have the constant houseguest cat DK - or as we call her, Deekers.

I am dawdling while getting the pet dishes ready. George gets very very excited at this time of day. Hey! Wouldn't you get excited if the only thing you got to eat every day is two cups of kibble and a third can of dog-food-smelling canned crap? Yes?

I'm dawdling away at the counter, George is in the kitchen - then the dining room - then the kitchen. Getting very wound up. Whooping and barking and prancing around. We're not exactly certain, but I believe one of his prances swiped Deekers somehow. She wasn't having it. She launched an attack on George  that sent him crying and yipping to the back door. Deekers had wrapped her 6 pound body - let me repeat that, her 6 pound body - around George's nose and head and had him in a death grip.

Then all hell broke loose. George yipping, Pup hollering, Barnabee calling on the phone, cat's tails puffed out, dog trying to get out back door. Even Calvin got huffy-puffy at George - I know he didn't know why.

Serious bedlam. Screaming, laughing, yipping, hissing. Pup grabbed Deekers and yelled at her. I was yelling at Pup. George was yelling to get out. Calvin was yelling just to feel part of it.

Pup was put out with me stating that if I didn't dawdle so much when feeding the pets George wouldn't get so excited. I, of course, couldn't stop laughing. None of them thought I was amusing. And Barnabee on the phone? They thought someone was being murdered.

George wouldn't come back in the house for the remainder of the day.

Pup says I'm vicious! These three look like they got over it.

Not Everyone Had a Great Day

Can't resist posting this photo of Lorenzo's little kitty DK.

She never looks like this. Her face is always squeeky and smiley. She may have been a little cranky that I was following her around with a camera.

Then again, she may have had that mean-mug because she found her stocking and we wouldn't let her have it. Not just then anyway.

Somehow, this bowl full of ornaments makes me so happy.

This tree looks lovely, but it died nearly immediately after we put it up. I did all the stuff you're supposed to; we had a new cut on the bottom, we put it in water within 30 minutes of buying it, I checked the water level every day. It still died. So this bad boy is coming down tomorrow before we burn down our lovely new room.

Merry Christmas again everyone! I hope you all got what you wanted and then some.

Smooches and love you all.

The Utility Room - Kinda Like The Bourne Identity, Only Nothing Like It

I considered getting the room squeeky-clean and looking like I don't use it, but then there would never be pictures of the minily-remodeled utility room.

You know, like I haven't taken any pictures of The Big Room. I'm waiting in vain for that room to be cleansy. Apparently that room is not only never clean, but I'm not on the ball.

Well, I'm on the ball, but not that ball. Some other ball. Some ball that flew in my yard uninvited. See how it works? I talk in circles and eventually forget what I'm trying to do. That's how nothing ever gets done. 

Except for the other day. Am I right? Can I see a show of hands? Just sayin' and all that shite?

Notice how Calvin has to be everywhere I am? It was damned annoying trying to get anything put away in this new space. Every time I brought in a basket to fill it got filled with some cat-ass. He's like that. I have no idea where he learned such behavior.

Check out my new-to-me 1960s Plycraft recliner. I had to beg on my hands and knees to get this chair. Pup was not lovin' on it. I pouted. He acquiesced. I own a chair! I don't pout often. Only when I want an Eames knock-off produced in the 60s.

It needs some love and leather butter, but I smile every time I walk into the house. It's nummy as a Martini. As nummy as an Old Fashioned.

Hmm . . . for some reason I need a cocktail.

Sneaky Pete

Just a little taste.

I only heard "oh oh!" once or twice during this whole project!

Pup did the tiling himself and I'm loving on it. It's very retro and was very cheap. I had promised my fiscally-tuned-in Pup that I would keep this project on the cheap and I think I did a very good job. Repurposed a couple of things and left the cabinets I found here and there, here and there. Who knew I could really shop as opposed to buy? WHO KNEW? lol

Almost done, but here's a little sample.

A Man and His Toys

Pup is one of those men that is very hard to buy for. If he ever wants anything (mostly - within reason - a CPA's reason) he runs right out and gets it.

You never know what that might be. Some sort of crazy tool for the garage that may get used only once (not that I care) or this new thing. A plow for the driveway.

Now, we live in a very very urban part of the cities and while we do have a very large lot (a double city lot), it's NOTHING compared to living in the country. In Pup's defense, our driveway is over 150 feet long and he works very long hours during the winter (tax season) and it's hard on him to have to snow blow that ginormous drive.

With that said I still found it crazy that he felt the need for this huge plow, but just looking at his face this morning when he looked outside and saw that we had FINALLY had our first measurable snowfall, well, it was priceless indeed.

But there he is, plowing to his heart's content. And I noticed he plowed several other driveways in our neighborhood. That's my Pup. He loves helping all the young uns around us here in Chez Emersonville.

In fact, the young couple that live right next to us had a baby recently and then the hubs was deployed. So Pup has been mowing their lawn all summer and now will be plowing their driveway. He just does it to be nice. Don't you love him from all this info?

Even though last night when we were out with friends he was stroking my new black velvet holiday top and said, "Sweetie, you feel just like a carseat."

aaaaaaaaaah!

Love you Pup. Sorry I punched your lights out. *kidding!*

Chez Emerson - More Projects

If bad decorating was a hanging offense, there'd be bodies hanging from every tree!
~Sylvester Stallone

We're into a mini-project here at the Chez Emerson. We finished The Big Room many months ago (photos will be coming - I'm promising myself even more than promising you), but recently had Pup's nephew, El Pintor, come to paint the trim around the windows (yes, we are slow as you might guess) and we found a couple of other things we needed done.

We had a mishap in The Den over the summer (a window air conditioner leaked upstairs and ran down into the ceiling - wah!) and the ceiling needs fixing. Then there is the ceiling in the one and only bathroom that needed some fixing. And then there is the ceiling in The Utility Room that needed some fixing. Lots of stuff needed fixing. And El Pintor is the man for the job.

And, I have to say, I feel badly for poor El Pintor having to deal with us! Pup is not the best communicator in the world (huh!) and I never know what's going on or when El Pintor is coming.

Cut to Saturday morning. I've been having super bad insomnia (old story yes?) and hadn't slept but three hours the previous night. So when Pup got up he came into the big room to hang out with me and we wound up watching Lars and the Real Girl (good movie). We were looking pretty fumpy and still in our jammies. Suddenly we heard the back door open and there is El Pintor! I screamed and ran for cover shooting Pup a death stare.

Pup had told El Pintor to come and had promised we'd have The Utility room emptied and ready for him. I did not know any of this. :)

Put El Pintor is such a nice boy he totally worked around our ball-dropping. He's a good boy. And a very hard worker. The ceilings everywhere will be lovely!

This entire process has motivated a redo of The Utility Room. It's horrible and a dumping-ground for anything that doesn't have a real home.

I'm gathering inspiration everywhere.

This is what I'm dealing with!

What's on My Blackberry?

Sunday in the Jungle

Yep. It's true.

It's 98 degrees today. Heat index 116. Dew point at 81. This is the WEIRDEST summer. I'm BUMMED a bit because when you go outside you are heat-blasted. I have been in the house all day today!

And the thought of working tomorrow in the non-air conditioned Cave makes me cry. I think I'll hang out in the office and only go cave-dwelling when absolutely necessary. SIGH

Cutest two cats in the world. I think Deekers (on right) looks just like Stan Laurel. It's a weird comparison, but I'm weird.

Best dinner in the world. I thought I died and went to Grok heaven.

Cutest dog in the world wants a bite. I shared. You know I'm nice. Sometimes.

Georgie can melt even the coldest of hearts. He's had a rough weekend since he had to stay indoors as well. That just about kills him. And there were storms Friday night and Saturday night. He's very afraid of storms.

Give him a little hug my hooches, but don't feel too sorry for him, he had lots of wonderful beef fat for dessert.

Smooches.

Sputnik

Is it weird to love a fixture this much?

It looks very cool at night when lit. Casts a good light, yet not intrusive. I generally hate overhead fixtures because NOTHING looks good with overhead lighting. Ha!

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Totally forgot it is Friday!

Here's a recycled hot one. Because who can resist Brian McNight?