Be afwaid
Be vewy, vewy afwaid.
Yes, I know that is a lousy impression of Elmer Fudd but hey, impressions have never been my strong suit.
Anyhoo, those words keep going through my head as I head into the deep, dark jumbled mess that is my home office. I can't avoid it any longer (and believe me, I've tried). We are finally ridding ourselves of the shelving, aka white laminate closet organizers, that we've been using "temporarily"* for 11+ years and replacing it with cabinets, file drawers, and bookcases galore from Ethan Allen (goigeous, dahling, simply goigeous - okay, enough sad attempts at impressions).
My lovely, quarter-sawn oak, kneehole desk (circa '50's is my guess) stays. It will, however, be revamped by hubby and dad to be more computer-friendly. It also needs to be refinished, but one thing at a time. Replacing it never crossed my mind. I found this beauty, flaws and all, at a garage sale for $70. Can you imagine?! I bought it before it came off the back of the truck delivering it to the sale. Moments later, someone offered me twice the money for it. Nope, sucker, this one is mine, all mine.
But I'm not stopping at cleaning out the den in preparation for the new furniture. Oh, no. I'm painting the ceiling and the walls. I'll choose a green again but something a bit warmer than the current color. Oh, it's going to look so good. Just think how productive and creative I'll be in my new digs!
Okay, back to my mission. I'm off to uncover another layer and see if my memory of beige carpeting is accurate. Don't worry about me, though. I'm leaving a trail of breadcrumbs so I can find my way out again.
*Is there a Statute of Limitations for how long one can apply the word temporary to an action? I would think 11 years is probably stretching the definition.
Yes, I know that is a lousy impression of Elmer Fudd but hey, impressions have never been my strong suit.
Anyhoo, those words keep going through my head as I head into the deep, dark jumbled mess that is my home office. I can't avoid it any longer (and believe me, I've tried). We are finally ridding ourselves of the shelving, aka white laminate closet organizers, that we've been using "temporarily"* for 11+ years and replacing it with cabinets, file drawers, and bookcases galore from Ethan Allen (goigeous, dahling, simply goigeous - okay, enough sad attempts at impressions).
My lovely, quarter-sawn oak, kneehole desk (circa '50's is my guess) stays. It will, however, be revamped by hubby and dad to be more computer-friendly. It also needs to be refinished, but one thing at a time. Replacing it never crossed my mind. I found this beauty, flaws and all, at a garage sale for $70. Can you imagine?! I bought it before it came off the back of the truck delivering it to the sale. Moments later, someone offered me twice the money for it. Nope, sucker, this one is mine, all mine.
But I'm not stopping at cleaning out the den in preparation for the new furniture. Oh, no. I'm painting the ceiling and the walls. I'll choose a green again but something a bit warmer than the current color. Oh, it's going to look so good. Just think how productive and creative I'll be in my new digs!
Okay, back to my mission. I'm off to uncover another layer and see if my memory of beige carpeting is accurate. Don't worry about me, though. I'm leaving a trail of breadcrumbs so I can find my way out again.
*Is there a Statute of Limitations for how long one can apply the word temporary to an action? I would think 11 years is probably stretching the definition.
posted by bemused at 3:07 PM
4 Comments:
You crack me up. Sounds beautiful! And Ethan Allen? Ooh la la! So grown up!
So glad to see you back in the blogosphere!
11 years can't be the limit for "temporary". For example, the green and yellow guest bath in my home... I've been "temporarily" living with it for 20 years. ;-)
I'll get around to replacing the fixtures soon... after all, it's just temporary!
Glad to provide giggles, lelo, especially since you've provided me with many belly laughs.
Sue, you *really* need to replace those awful bath fixtures. Either that or play them up big time and go for shock and awe. ;-)
Are those bath fixtures going to be in the movie? Is that why the director wanted to use your house?
Hmm... shock and awe... perhaps they can shoot in my guest bath for the horror film! ;-)
For this film, I believe that the appeal was that we didn't charge them for the use and didn't require them to provide additional insurance.
As for the, uh, dynamic color scheme of the bath... the lovely thing about being the editor, is that I can cut all that out, or even change the colors!
Fortunately, there's no bathroom scene in the movie! ;-)
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