It isn't what I'd first envisioned but it will do just fine. I just wanted a table to use for putting on makeup (which I seldom wear) and tweezing those unwanted hairs that keep popping up on my face.
I'd really wanted a proper antique dressing table but got worried about transporting bugs into my home so decided I had to buy new. Then I sadly discovered that new dressing tables were few, far between, and damned expensive for actually crappy construction. And so I settled on a sofa table because it was the right height and shallow width.
After searching the city for one I liked and could afford, I found this one pretty well by accident and like it a lot. It fits perfectly in the space allotted for it and holds all it needs to hold.
Notice the date on my photo! I really should try to figure out how to change this but when I get a new laptop this winter I won't be able to install this old Kodak photo program so it's not worth the bother. In any case, the photo was taken on July 28, 2014.
Now that I've purchased all the furniture I'll probably ever buy, I need to start making some decisions on what colors to paint the apartment rooms. Luckily I don't mind the light beige it's already painted so I can take my time. One thing for sure, the new colors will be light and not dark. I'm thinking pale lilac for my bedroom, pale green for the spare bedroom, pale green for the bathroom, and heaven knows what for the rest of the place.
Here is another little story from October, 2000.
Family life today is much different from when I was a child. More wives and mothers now work outside the home as well as inside and often have to develop short cuts in their housework.
My daughter, a working wife and mother, has a habit of emptying the clean dishes from the dishwasher as she needs them rather than emptying it completely and putting them in the cupboard. Her 4 year old son, Matt, has also become accustomed to this practice.
One day he opened the dishwasher to get a clean glass but my daughter stopped him by saying the dishes in there were dirty and hadn't been washed yet.
Matt stood there looking very puzzled with this new concept. Then he turned to his mother and demanded, "Well, where do we keep the clean glasses now?".
I've had more fun re-reading these little anecdotes from long ago and picturing my sweet little grandbabies as they were in those days. I love the sweet innocence of those grandbabies that I'm now seeing in my greatgrandbabies. Aren't I lucky to still be around to be able to relive it with another generation?
I've always written stories, mostly short stories about something that impressed me in some way. I have an old strongbox that held papers from quite a few years ago so I decided to empty it and give it to Don. I knew there were some of my old stories in it and it's always fun to reread what you've written in prior years and may have even forgotten about. This is one of them and it was apparently submitted to Reader's Digest in December, 2000. Funny, I've never received payment for it. LOL!
My 2 year old grandson, Jake, lives 1500 miles from my husband and myself (Poppa & Gramma) so we seldom get to see him.
When Jake was an infant, Poppa would quack like a duck to make him laugh and he discovered that the quack was also a way of identifying himself when he spoke to the baby on the telephone. If the person he heard on the phone quacked, then Jake knew it was his Poppa.
We recently visited Jake after not seeing him for five months and, as expected, he didn't recognize us. He was very upset by two strangers approaching him and he began to cry...until my husband quacked. Jakes eyes widened and a smile burst upon his little face. "Poppa!", Jake yelled!
Now, isn't that a sweet story?
Nick brought Nolan down to stay with me today so I had to take a chance and show him the baby birds. I'd noticed a lessening of daddy sparrow's incessant chirping but I was surprised to see only one baby sparrow still in the nest. The others had flown the coop, so to speak, and I hadn't seen it happen.
This afternoon I noticed a distinct silence out on the balcony and had to check the nest one more time. It was empty. The last baby sparrow had found the nerve to jump off my 6th floor balcony.
The silence is welcome in a way but also a bit sad. These tiny little creatures followed their instincts to painstakenly build their nest of twigs, paper, and feathers and then stayed and protected their babies until they could fly out into the great unknown. In a small way, this is much like what we humans do for our own offspring.
Nature is truly a wonderful and mysterious thing.
I had a clear idea of what I wanted for new livingroom lamps before I sold the house but settled for a couple of cheap imitations until I could find what I really wanted. The above pictures are the lamps I bought today after giving up on my original idea. The pictures don't do the lamps justice, though, because they're prettier than my photos. I love the way they look with the teak tables, too. The tables were my super yard sale finds for $5 each and they're worth about $400-500 each. The lamps were moderately expensive (at least for me) but it's all part of my children's inheritance. LOL!
I got weighed this morning and hadn't lost a pound from last week and it depressed me a bit. And so I ate too much today but now I'm done with that and tomorrow I go back to the old grind of being more careful.
Tomorrow is another day, right, and a perfect time to start doing better at whatever you do wrong. Somehow that doesn't sound right but I'm too tired to care at the moment.
I wasn't going to look at the baby sparrows again until they emerged from their nest but Faye and Donna wanted to see them so I did. They look like tiny full feathered birds! I know that means they could take a flying leap off my balcony any day now and I might miss them altogether. It's nerve wracking to replace the planter that sits in front of their nest, though, so I really am not going to look again.
Faye, Donna, and I went out for lunch and then to Len's Mill Store to look for fabric. I found a lovely piece to cover the cushions on the sofa but it was kind of expensive. I'm going to just slip cover the ones I have like a pillow sham so I can take it off and wash it or just easily change the cover for another one.
We came back here for tea and talk and I was sad to see the afternoon end. I've know both of these ladies since I was in my teens and it's so nice to just yack with people who have been in your life for this long. But then there are people who slip into your life and you immediately feel as though you've known them forever (like Sylvia). I guess it's just nice to spend time with people you really care about no matter how long you've known them.
I wasn't going to bother my little nestlings any more because I was afraid I might squash one of them when I put the planter back in place but I took a chance and showed them to Cindy and Don this morning. They have feathers and almost no room in the nest. I'm hoping to see them at least once more before they fly away but I won't move the planter to do it.
I have sort of odd feelings about them flying off because it will be a lot quieter around here when they do. Daddy sparrow won't squawk all day to keep me away from them. I'm assuming he'll just fly off and live his own life somewhere.
Cindy called me yesterday with an invitation to go out for breakfast this morning and, of course, I said yes. I seldom turn down an invitation to go out for a meal. We went to the "Fifties Diner" that I've come to think of as my home away from home and we had a great breakfast. Then they came back to my apartment so Don could hang my full length mirror. I am such a lucky old gal to have help like this.
I'd started a Swedish weaving afghan for Don's mother and discovered I'd stupidly put in 2 extra stitches in one spot so the rest of the pattern couldn't go in. It took forever to take out what I'd already done and start over but it was worth it. Sometimes we can just fake it by calling it our new pattern but not in this case. Sometimes we just have to accept the only way is to remove and start over.
I have a few projects on the go right now. The biggest job ahead is to re-organize my crafts and probably dispose of some of them. I really want to buy an antique dressing table and that's why I got rid of a shelving unit and need to re-organize but maybe wanting the dressing table is a blessing in disguise. It's forcing me to cut back on crafts I may never even start. I'm much too lazy to make as many plans as I have when it comes to crafts. It's better when I just jump right into an idea and follow up on it immediately.
Well, life is what you make of it and one of my driving forces is to keep mine uncluttered. I'll take pictures of the new dressing table when I get it...I'm hoping the seller will deliver.
I got it into my head that I'd really like a dressing table but there was no room for one. I'm determined not to overstuff my sweet apartment so, if I get the table, something had to go.
I like my bedroom just the way it is but I haven't been happy with the neat but crowded condition of the spare room. I know I could organize it better than I have and maybe, just maybe either get rid of some crafts or store them in the basement locker. Every time I entered the room and looked at my stash of stuff I couldn't imagine where I'd move it to, though, but where there's a will there's a way. I'm stubborn.
This morning I decided to make a stab at it and by piling some stuff in a hamper to take to Florida which I can store in the car trunk right now and by re-organizing my crafts, I actually cleared the big shelving unit. Then, like a fool, toted it precariously down to my basement locker only to find it was too tall. Crap! I knew I should have measured first but one of my faults is that, when I want something done, I want it done right now. Stupid, I know.
There was no way I was going to struggle the damn thing all the way back up to my apartment so I carted it to the back door of the building where we put things we don't want but hope someone else does. I was sweating like a stuck pig but quite proud of myself that I'd accomplished it at all. I really do feel a great sense of satisfaction when I succeed at a difficult task.
Now I have to re-organize my crafts in the spare room and there will be a perfect spot for my new dressing table when I find it. I want an antique one, the gaudier the better, and it has to come with delivery because I hate inconveniencing my kids. My hope is to find one at a yard sale or used furniture store but I'm in no hurry and will wait until I find the perfect one for me.
When I checked my baby sparrows yesterday I saw that they're growing so big that they're starting to fall out of the nest...note the skinny little leg hanging there.
I also discovered the source of irritation that causes daddy sparrow to chirp non-stop. It's me. If he can't see me, he doesn't chirp. Unfortunately, my favorite comfy chair is right next to the patio doors where I am in full sight while I sit there. I'm getting anxious for my baby sparrows to grow up and leave home.
Every time I look at them, though, it fills me with wonder at the fragility of life and the instincts most of us are born with to rear our babies safely. Birth is a miracle but so is the instinct to protect our young even when they become adults.
The baby sparrows are growing fast, still with no feathers. The Momma sparrow grows increasingly upset the older her babies get and, though she didn't dive-bomb me as I took the picture, she flew awfully close and squawked all the way.
I love having this little nest of babies on the balcony but would have to get rid of them if it was a nest of squirrels. I'm still traumatized by the times the hideous things invaded my attic.
I'm not sure how I'd get rid of a nest of squirrels but it would have to involve my poor grandsons. Knowing Matt, he'd probably take them and set them up in a safe place far away from his Gramma.
The babies have grown noticeably but now I'm afraid to check them out again. I don't think I've ever seen a nest of baby birds when they weren't milling around and opening their beaks but this morning they were sleeping. It was apparent that they were breathing but I started to worry that my interference by taking pictures might end up in them dying or being abandoned by their mother. And so I'm going to give it a rest and stop taking photos for a while.
I carefully checked the nest yesterday so I could show Nash the eggs but found tiny babies instead. This time, Momma sparrow flew just a short distance and was very distressed so I returned the plant to the planter, thereby hiding her little brood from dangerous eyes.
The babies are really ugly little critters with pink skin and beaks that open unbelievably wide when they sense anyone near that might be bringing food. But then, they are so tender and helpless that you soften just looking at them.
I'll check again in a few days to see how much they've grown. I wish I could find my new camera which would take much clearer photos but I'm completely confused about where it is. I hadn't planned on leaving it in Florida but, if it isn't here, then I sure hope I find it in the trailer this fall.
I'd kind of wondered why a little sparrow would shoot out from behind this planter every time I watered but it wasn't until I decided to switch the potted plants that I found out why.
This year I bought a lot of complete potted plants instead of planting everything individually so I just sat them on top of the large planters on the balcony. The other day I decided to change some around, just the way you would furniture. When I lifted the pot from this location I was surprised to find the sweetest, most intricate nest full of speckled eggs. I knew they were sparrow eggs because of the little sparrow who always seemed to be there.
Kim has a robin's nest over the light at her front door and we thought it was kind of late for birds to be laying eggs but I guess not. It will be fun to watch them hatch and then learn to fly. I hope my nosy presence won't be too disturbing for Momma sparrow.
These photos were taken about 8:30 this evening after a rain shower. I first noticed it was a double rainbow but then was amazed to see it was a complete rainbow with a clear beginning, arch, and end.
It was cute that the end was on the escarpment just past a lighted cross.
As I finished my shower this morning and struggled into my undies, it dawned on me why women might start their day a little snarly compared to men.
First, we pull on tight bra and panties. Many men shrug on loose boxer shorts.
Second, we struggle with hair that usually needs styling, curlers, blow dryers. Men often have hair so short it doesn't even need to be combed.
Third, we take time to choose the right co-ordinating outfit. Most men wear dark pants and light shirt of varying and always co-ordinating shades.
Fourth, we have to choose the right jewelry to wear with the carefully chosen outfit. Men slip on a watch.
I understand that women usually take great care to look their best when they leave the house but men seem to achieve the same effect with a lot less fuss.
This makes me testy.
I think I've always decorated to satisfy my own tastes and not anyone elses so choosing a colorful floral print for a Duncan Fyfe style chair suits me just fine.
I bought the fabric at Fabricland and then borrowed the staple gun from Frank and Donna. Kim came down just before lunch yesterday to help me and I'm so glad she did. First off, I couldn't put enough pressure on the staple gun to get the staples into the chair so Kim took over. She had more strength but still not enough so we had to hammer the staples in. Secondly, we too often had the gun facing the wrong way and it's a miracle we didn't staple ourselves.
We finished one chair and I was ecstatic with the transformation. The old fabric was a washed out ivory and now they looked so pretty. But as we almost finished the second chair, a staple got stuck in the gun and Kim had to take it apart to clear it. Not the best idea. We couldn't figure out how to put it together again and there was no way I could return it to Frank in that condition so we went out and bought a new one. I believe in returning borrowed items the way I got them so I had no other choice.
The new gun worked just fine and we finished the 4 chairs in no time. We had lots of material left over so Kim wanted to recover a bench in the bedroom but I wouldn't let her. Dennis had recovered that bench when he was ill and I'll never change it.
Anyway, I'm very happy with the new chair covers and don't care one bit that they don't match anything else. They are pretty and they make me smile.
Nolan won't be 5 until July 10th but his party was held yesterday...a perfect sunny and warm day. Many of the family members were there...2 Grammas, 4 cousins, 2 uncles, 2 aunts. Also attending were 4 or 5 of Nolan's classmates.
Nick and Natasha had arranged a lovely barbecue and also a face painter for the kids. To describe him as a face painter doesn't do him justice. He is an artist! The boys all chose animals and the girls chose butterflies. HMM! I do believe the difference in the sexes does start at an early age.
I was very impressed with the behaviour of the children. All had fun, some more exhuberantly than others (the boys) but all very well behaved. I remembered my Shelley's 4th birthday party where the children got completely out of my control with one child biting another and a tiny frightened child standing in a corner crying her heart out. I wondered if the modern practice of sending our babies off to nursery schools and pre-schools might be paying off some benefits.
Nolan would have loved to gather up all his presents and go off by himself to play with them but was easily persuaded to hold off until his guests went home. I remember a birthday party for Cindy when she was maybe 7 and she simply disappeared from her party. I found her hiding and playing with her presents. It's perfectly normal.
I loved the party and I loved seeing how many family members were there to celebrate it with him. He's a lucky little boy.
Not many people are aware that I have a fourth daughter. She may not be my biological daughter but I've loved her like a daughter for many years. I've known Isabel since she was a child but we didn't become close until she moved back to the neighborhood and I got to know her as an adult. She's always amazed and impressed me with what a strong and really terrific woman she's become.
I recently found out she has cancer. There's that rotten, son of a bitchin' word I hate to hear. It means gut wrenching fear, treatments galore, and an indeterminate future for the person afflicted. For those who love them, it means gut wrenching fear but hope that this time the treatments will work.
I know so many people who have been diagnosed with cancer, some more than once, but who have beat the bastardly disease so that does give me hope. Isabel is one tough cookie and she will fight the good fight with all she's got. She has a close and loving family to support her and fight for her, too.
Cancer is not the end of the world. True, some don't conquer it but more and more do than ever before so we have to trust the doctors who direct our treatment. They are the experts and no-one tries harder to beat the disease than they do.
I believe in holistic medicine,too. One holistic course of treatment is to visualize the cancer and demolish it with your thoughts. Sounds a little crazy but the power of thought in harming or helping our bodies is well known. If we can make ourselves sick, why can't we make ourselves well? I believe that one day it will be second nature to self heal our illnesses and that no chemicals or medications will be needed. I also believe in faith healing of others...sending healing thoughts. That's what I'll do for my Isabel. Let the doctors do their best and I'll do mine because I have to do something.
I'm intent on doing as much for myself as I can but, when I do need help, I'm not afraid to ask for it. Now, I can change lightbulbs with the best of them but if the ceiling is high and it requires removal of a shade then I need help. The reason is that I have trouble enough going up a stepladder beyond one step but, if I have to lean back and take the time to remove a shade, dizziness will overtake me. And so I asked my grandson, Matt, to do it for me. He did and with no squawking or complaint, thank you very much.
I have good and reliable people in my life that I can count on when I need them. I am blessed and I know it.
I hope I spelled that right because misspellings also irritate me. I've always known that my sense of inner balance means that I like to see a certain type of alignment and symmetry in my environment but, while sitting on the toilet this morning, I noticed the floor mat was not quite straight and it bothered me a lot. Of course, I straightened it out or it would have bugged me every time I was in the bathroom.
Now, I can tolerate a little dust and dirt but items have to be set in a way that it doesn't irritate my senses. I guess I have my own particular brand of pheng shui...hope I spelled that right, too. I love language but I want it spelled correctly.
As we get older more little things start to irritate us for some reason. Maybe it's because we have more time on our hands to dwell on little irritants. I cannot abide the practice of men wearing their pants under their undies and I can't calm my irritation when I see it. I'm trying but so far no go. I try to tell myself that it's not my business how someone else dresses but I can't get past the insulted feeling of being mooned.
Anyone seeing my spare bedroom and the mass of crafts I've stored there would doubt I need things to be properly in their place but that mess is neat in my eyes. At least I've convinced myself it is. But I do spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to diminish my stock so that I don't need tote boxes to handle it all. One day.
My daughters and I were talking last evening about another pet peeve of mine. They were both willing to accept a friend who was under stress telling them to f... off, at least the first time it happened. I, on the other hand, would dump that jerk the very first time it ever happened because it is so offensive to me. I don't believe anyone needs a so-called friend who would speak like that to us under any circumstances.
Now on a happier note. My beautiful Matt finally got his full driver's permit yesterday and I'm very proud of how far he's come since his wild childhood. Matt was one of those kids his teachers thought had out-of-control ADHD but that was just his nature. If we hadn't loved him so much one of us would have killed him in those days. But, as he's matured, his sweet and gentle nature has emerged over and above his impetuous one and he's a joy to be around. I love him.
And those are my thoughts for today.
I sat out on the balcony this evening with a glass of wine in one hand and my eyes glued to the horizon where I could see fireworks in the sky in many different directions. I love Canada...not just because I was lucky enough to be born here but because I had ancestors who recognized the pure potential of this vast country. This is Canada Day and we're 157 years old. Sounds young for a country, doesn't it?
Canada isn't like other countries. Someone said we have drive by yellings instead of drive by shootings...not quite the truth but closer to it than not. We're a multicultural country where many nationalities can immigrate and make a safe home for themselves. I wish we blended a little better than we do but maybe that will happen as the years go by. I like the idea of preserving our heritage but I also like the idea of blending heritages because that's the way to better understanding of cultural differences.
I love my country and appreciate the fact that Canada once accepted my ancestors who left their birth countries to pursue a better life here.
Happy 157th Birthday, Canada!
