A Rabbit Habit

Whoowhee...y'all! I am pooped. We got up bright and early this morning to empty out our closets and clear the floors for the bug lady's arrival. As you know from my previous post of embarrassment and woe, I was looking forward to it about like I would a root canal. Luckily, nothing embarrassing happened this time! It appears that I may have broken the bug lady curse.

Do you all have big weekend plans? Hunting any eggs? Easter candy binges? We've got a busy weekend with some furniture to pick up tomorrow (oh man, I love furniture) and are looking forward to a Sunday that is a mixture of very low-key Easter fun and "The Walking Dead" finale. Thank Goodness that "Mad Men" starts next weekend as the Mister and I enjoy having a weekly show to watch together. Seeing as how he only watches PBS and BBC News and I only watch total crap, our TV viewing choices seldom merge. Whatever you do - or whether you choose to do nothing at all - I hope that you all have a great weekend!  Today's post is going to consist of some photos of bunnies around the house. Hippity Hop!

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

Jive Turkey Explosion!!

In keeping with the "what the heck holiday are we living right now anyway?" theme, today we're going to talk about turkeys! Yeah, man. Turkeys.

Once again, we'll be flashing back to my trip home in March to see the family. My Mom and I were strolling down a thrift store aisle when I found a ceramic turkey. We both saw it at the same time and I asked her if she wanted it. She seemed way too blasé for the turkey being as cute as he was and told me that I could have it. I then told her that I was stoked because I hadn't owned a single Thanksgiving turkey decoration and this was my first. I then asked "Do you have any Thanksgiving turkeys?" She said, "Yes" and that was it.

Later on, we got back to her house and were hanging out and she opened up a drawer - okay, two drawers. Deep ones. TURKEYS OUT THE WAZOO. I realize that just like yesterday with the post about the corsages, we are back once again to my Mom opening up a drawer and magical things pouring out. Her house really is like some kind of mystic land. It just is. You open a closet and you're gonna say "Wow!". You open a drawer and you're going to be gasping for air. This lady worked for years in a thrift store and even after that, she knows how to do some pickin'. She's got mad skills. I can't even tell you how many houses she's decorated for me throughout the years just with thrift store goodies.

Anyway....all of this turkey talk - who's craving dressing and pie? I am. So, she opens up these drawers and starts rummaging through dozens of turkeys of all kinds - ceramic....paper...glass....turkeys. turkeys. turkeys. And Gurley Thanksgiving candles which I had never even seen out in the wild.

Then she starts giving me turkeys. The lone turkey that I got earlier in the day was out in the car, seeming pretty lame after the unveiling of mass migration of gobblers that was taking place in my Mom's sideboard drawers.

Who knew that my Mom had turkey drawers? Certainly not me. They're in the same unassuming sideboard with the vintage Halloween drawer (didn't know she had one) and vintage toy drawer (didn't know she had one). Holy moly. I can't believe that earlier that day, she'd been so subdued when I asked her if she had any Thanksgiving turkeys in her collection. Talk about a poker face! Anyway, before it was done, I had my very own turkey collection. 

Here are the ceramic ones. 

These two are my favorites in the "tasteful classic turkey" category:


But the ace in the hole has to be this rascal from the kitschy "somebody save him" category:

Um...gobble? 
Y'all have to know that I love that totally insane face. Out of all of the turkeys, he's the only one that seems to understand that Thanksgiving is not a turkey friendly holiday. This guy is made from styrofoam and I can't help but think that he came in a set with a styrofoam farmer with an axe. 

She also gave me some beautiful old paper turkeys like this guy from Beistle. 


Here you'll see them all marching down the sideboard. 



Mr. Kitten Pants couldn't help but teach the small one a lesson about hard-knocks. It's pretty obvious that if I put this collection out this Thanksgiving, I'm going to need to hire security guards for the turkeys. 
I also got this great old paper Thanksgiving tablecloth that more than likely, I'll never have the strength to remove from the package and get gravy on. 

Thanks for taking this trip down Tom Turkey lane with me. Do any of you have turkey collections? Relatives with mysterious sideboard drawers? Do tell! 
Tomorrow, I'm going to buck tradition and talk about Easter, a holiday that is actually happening in the near future. See y'all then! 

Until next time, x's and o's, Eartha

Dare I say "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas"?

I know. That post title is completely whackadoodle noodles considering we're about to launch into Spring. But as many of you know, a lot of us are undergoing Winter cold snaps right now. We've had snow the past couple of days  here in Nashville - unfortunately just the little kind that looks pretty and melts the minute it hits the ground but still...snow. We'll take anything that we can get around these parts!

On top of that, I'm still getting my shizzle together after a late March Christmas with my family. Thus, today's post is about holiday corsages. Hey, you know I could be dead by glitter inhalation by Christmas so I'd better post now!  When I was home with my Mom, she was showing me different things that she had been squirreling away throughout the year - things that she'd found at thrift stores and thought I might like. Yeah, totally. She's my ace in the hole when it comes to cool stuff.  Anyway, the car had reached full capacity and I promised the Mister that I wouldn't consider any other items. Of course, then my Mom says, "Come here. I want you to look at something." She opened a drawer and lo and behold my breath was taken away and before I knew it, we were both sitting in the floor in front of the drawer taking in the wonder. Of tons and tons of holiday corsages. Sixteen in all. Wait. Did you hear that? Angels singing.

I already had a small collection of corsages but they are getting way hard to find at estate sales. And if you find one in an antique store there is a good chance that it's going to be above budget. She then told me that I could take what I wanted. Whaaaaaaaaat? Um, yeah. I heard the Mister make a comment in the hall about how I should remember that we had no. more. room. I squeaked out something resembling, "But come seeeeeeeeee!" There was no way that I was going to turn down the opportunity to own the holiday corsage mother-load.  I'm not sure how I'm going to display them - they will definitely have to be where the kitties can't get to them and where I can pluck one out to wear when the mood strikes. They're just so beautiful. Justin Timberlake can bring sexy back but as for me? I'm bringing corsages back.  Thanks Mom!

Okay, who wants eggnog? 

Come back next time to see another seasonally inappropriate instant collection gifted to me by Mom. 

Hint: Gobble Gobble! 

Until next time, x's and o's, Eartha

The Bug Lady and Me: A Tale Fraught With Woe

Today, I was reading Kimmie's post which happened to mention her contractor walking in on her in the bathroom (um....yikes) and this made me even furthermore dread this week's visit by our pest control lady. Since the very start, I've had embarrassing interactions with her, thus making me get nervous butterflies whenever she does her twice yearly preventative spray. And by "butterflies" I mean cannonballs being shot into the center of my stomach.

"Why would anyone other than the errant spider or ant quiver at the thought of the bug lady coming?" you might ask. It's all been about bad circumstances and crappy timing, that's why. The first embarrassing situation with her was at our old house. I was upstairs dressing and before I knew it, the Mister had brought her into our bedroom. I didn't even know that she had arrived yet. There I stood in my skivvies and there they were - the Mister with an "oh yeah....the wife is gonna kill me" look on his face and the bug lady looking like I wasn't even there. I think it would have been less mortifying if she would have reacted like most people act when they accidentally see one of their clients in their underthings - you know...embarrassment and shock and apologies. Instead she looked at me like I was a piece of furniture. A piece of furniture that probably would have worn a nicer bra if I'd known that she would be coming through all peek-a-boo.

The second experience with her was here at our new house. Up until that visit by her, I had been avoiding her - even leaving the house when she came. A couple of times, I'd go up to Sonic and sit until the Mister gave me the "all clear" because I was still so humiliated by her seeing me getting dressed at the old house. But this time, I decided that I was just going to do it. By God, I was going to stay in my home while she was here! That morning I stood at the kitchen sink like I owned the joint. She walked in the back door and took one look at me and says, "Wow! Congratulations!" I was completely stumped until I saw that she was staring at my stomach and lo and behold, she obviously thought that I was ripe with a little baby Kitsch.

I managed to stammer something about how I was only pregnant with too many grilled cheese sandwiches and scampered out of the room and confined myself to the back bedroom where the kitties were being cordoned off for her arrival. I was left weighing which situation with her so far had been more yucky. Since most non-pregnant women don't particularly like it when their stomachs are assumed to be packed full of another human person, I reasoned that we had finally topped the "hey! this is me in my bra!" incident. Besides, she'd seen me in my underwear - how could she think that I was pregnant when she intimately knew my body type?! I carry weight in my midsection. She knows that!

After she left, I remember blabbering painfully to the Mister about "Can't a woman just stand at her own sink? Can't she stand in her own bedroom in her bra? What do I have to do around here??" In fact, every time that she's set to come, I go off the rails on a crazy train. And that brings us to our third experience. This one is also twice as mortifying as it should be because she never acknowledged that it happened. When she came to spray that time, it was raining outside and she couldn't do the exterior. She did the inside of the house and said that she'd be back one day during the week when it was drier outside to do the exterior. Fine...whatever. Except for after she left, I wasn't thinking about her coming. It completely slipped my mind. So as one normally does on the average weekday, I was busy doing this:



Yes, I was break dancing with a mannequin boy.  (the best damned dance partner that I've ever had) 
The photos were for a funny montage for my Flickr stream. I used to take lots of wacky photos with Jack and post them to Flickr and on this day, I was seriously cutting a rug, trying to get this photo shoot right. I probably danced for two hours and by the time that I was done, had thousands of photos. I was dancing hard too. I'm talking breaking a "Flashdance" flop-sweat. After I was done, I looked through the photos, giggling to myself. I was pretty happy with the results - until a few minutes later when I happened to go outside and find the bug lady's note on the back door that she'd been by to spray the outside of the house for bugs. Holy crap. She had seen me - a grown woman - breakdancing with a mannequin boy...in front of a huge open window! She hadn't knocked on the window or cleared her throat to let me know she was there. Or ANYTHING. 
I was MORTIFIED. I just couldn't break the chain of bad bug lady events to save my life! There was no way that she didn't see me popping and locking with Jack either. We were in the back bedroom and I had all of the curtains wide open for better lighting. When she sprays, she goes to each window individually and hoses down the entire casing around the glass. That meant that at some point, while I was dancing to C&C Music Factory with a plaster boy, she was standing right there in the window watching me. And hey, you know me...I had no idea. I was all Special K and Jack was my Turbo and we were completely breakin' it down. Had she seen me attempt to do the worm???
Of course, she has never mentioned it at all so I know that she thinks that I am some strange freaky mannequin fetishist perv or something. She probably looks at Mr. Kitsch with pity because he's married to a barren, bloated freak of a woman who dresses like some kind of Baby Jane Hudson does Punky Brewster and jitterbugs with inanimate plaster boys while he's at work, bringing home the bacon. I often wonder if she wants to take the Mister aside and tell him about my dirty little secrets. I also wonder if I am the fodder for fabulous fables at the pest control office now. When they train new workers, does she stand at the front of the room and use me as an example of "the kind of craziness that you're gonna see out there"?  
Ever since that day, I've hidden in the back bedroom with the cats when she comes. For four years, every six months I am a fugitive on the lam in my own home. I sit in that room with the kitties with the drapes firmly pulled tight. I know that she knows that I'm in there. And she knows that I know that she's out there. And for now, that's enough for me.

Until next time, x's and o's, Eartha

Well Alright!!

Lots of great news in my hood today. Three lost dogs home within hours. One of them had been missing for weeks and his reunion was the most miraculous kind of miracle. It gives me the faith that I need to believe in my heart's mission at a time when I need it most.  That's the kind of day that makes me want to shimmy shimmy shake. And believe me, I am!

I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite videos. Watch as Little Richard makes this whole place erupt into nothing but kinetic joy and the best kind of mayhem. It gets especially unbridled towards the end.




I wish that you all were here with me so that we could have a dance party!

Happy weekend everyone!

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

Walnut Key Holder - Mystery Solved

Back in March of last year, I posted a photo of my late Great Grandmother in her home with my Uncle in front of a blurry little key holder. When I found the photo, I had already started my own nut craft collection and was tickled ten shades of pink that my Great Grandmother apparently dabbled in nut craft appreciation too. Still with me? Mocking me? So it goes. Let's all just admit that it's kind of a weird thing to have in common with a relative.





Anyway.... I had no idea what the little plaque said. Even when the photo was enlarged it was just too blurry to read. I did a bunch of eBay and Etsy searches but unfortunately, crafts made with nuts are a hard thing to pin down in searches. If you search anything with "walnut", you get a bazillion things made out of wood from walnut trees. After a while, I gave up the search, chalking it up to another one of life's mysteries. UNTIL last month when I got an e-mail from my girl Sara who just happened to come across a little plaque that she thought might be it on an e-Bay search. Color me ecstatic! I know it sounds crazy but I wanted that nut plaque like a good foot rub and an "It's A Brad, Brad World" marathon.

As the auction end date came around, I was a nervous wreck. Would anyone else bid against me? Would there be anyone else in the entire world interested in a key holder featuring a leering walnut guy?  Yes. I know. I'm totally delusional but anyway, I aced that auction and before long, the plaque arrived in my mailbox. Even though the Seller mailed it in a paper envelope ( A PAPER ENVELOPE! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY - A PAPER ENVELOPE!!), it arrived in one piece and has taken its place on the sunporch wall.  Let's gaze upon it's glory, shall we?

I die. I've been bludgeoned with nut craft cuteness and a bark covered piece of log. 

And in the end, here is what it says:

Mystery Solved! 

Forget boring old house keys. This nut guy has the key to my heart.

Thanks to Sara for her eagle eye and for remembering my wacky wish to find this thing! Do any of you remember wacky tourist and/or decor items that your parents, grandparents or other relatives displayed in their homes?  Do tell! 

Until next time,

x's and o's, 

Eartha

Lucy! You've got some scannin' to do!

When I was home for Marchmas, my Dad let me bring home all of the family photo albums to scan the pictures inside. I am insane about family photos so I was super stoked. Let me tell you - I've seriously got some scanning to do.

After I took this photo I realized that I left six whole albums out of this picture. Oh boy.

I realize that I may just be scanning until the end of time but I'm vowing to get it done. I haven't let myself look through all of the pages in the albums yet, hoping that seeing each photo as fresh and new will motivate me to keep turning those pages and keep scanning. I did take a few peeks though.

Me and my brother. Of course, pink for girls and blue for boys. Remember when the covers of photo albums had actual photos on them like the one with the landscape above? Swank.

My Dad's Army days. He was stationed in Germany and has always told us about how great the pizza was there and how there wasn't an ugly woman in all of Germany. I keep thinking that surely there must have been one or two! He and my Mom used to open up the family trunk and show me and my brother postcards with amazing castles on them and my Mom would always let me take whiffs of this fancy perfume set that my Dad sent her while overseas. It had a pretty box and maybe eight or ten tiny bottles of different golden hued scents, each tied with slivers of colored ribbons. I remember that they smelled pretty horrible but I'm going to chalk that up to how old they were. Surely my Dad could pick out nice perfumes - unless one of those beautiful German salesgirls was trying to make commission off of him and then all bets are off!

Seventies. Nothing but seventies as far as the eye can see. That's my aunt's A-Frame house. It was sweeeeeet. I'd love to have that house today. They lived back in the woods and her girls were the biggest tomboys. Once, one of them almost drove us into a pond while careening downhill on a go-kart. I was screaming like a loon. I think they knew that I was a wuss and that city girl could not hang with the rough and tumble crowd. Perhaps they were trying to kill me off so that they wouldn't be obligated to play sissy-pants dolls with me anymore.





Look at my beautiful Mom's sweet hair! I'm going to have to get her to teach me how to do that. I think that I was told that she had that photo taken professionally to send to my Dad to keep with him while he was stationed overseas.

I remember really loving that rick-rack and gingham dress. I had a pink one too! Everybody knows that I'd still wear those things today if they fit me.  I think it was a Sears portrait. My brother and I look seriously giddy! We look sugary sweet but I'm pretty sure we were being brats that day. It seems like we were brats every time that my Mom took us to a department store. I remember hiding under the clothes racks and trying to scare her into thinking that she'd lost us. Like she'd care! She would have probably been glad to have a few moments of peace!




I hope that this picture has faded - or else that means that my entire family used to wear pancake makeup. I didn't realize until after I took this shot but my Mom and I are wearing similar dresses!

I remember the day that we had this portrait made. I think that my family just bought this one shot but I remember the photographer making us do totally goofy stuff like leaning on a wagon wheel and looking wistfully towards the left. There was also a fake window that we leaned out of as if we were enjoying a light breeze on a fine Spring day. I'd give a month's worth of grilled cheeses to see those proofs again!

Do you have any family portraits? Have you been lucky enough to be made steward of the family photos, both good and bad? Do tell!

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

Love To Fred

Mister Rogers would have been eighty five years old today. Ever since I was a kidlet, I've had a deep affinity for him. He was one of the kindest, gentlest and most earnest men that has ever walked this Earth as far as I'm concerned and I often kick myself for never writing him that letter that I'd meant to write. I wish that I'd taken the time to tell him how amazing he was. In most cases, we would probably consider writing to a celebrity as a thankless task but I'd bet dollars to donuts that Fred would have been one of those people who would have actually read the letter and taken the time to write back.

A lot of times, people make fun of him and his quiet demeanor and I have to admit that it gets my dander up. He was very passionate and philanthropic and you know what? I don't think that you have to be loud and brash to be that way. You can witness this here in his 1969 speech to the United States Senate in the hopes of securing funding for the Corporation For Public Broadcasting when those funds were under threat due to a proposed bill by President Nixon.



See what I'm saying? He was like a quiet storm. Many years ago when I worked a particularly stressful job as an office manager, I'd go home on my lunch breaks. I lived about five minutes away from the office and always got home in time to flip on PBS and watch Mister Rogers' show. I know that it sounds silly - a grown woman popping a squat with a sandwich and Mister Rogers every day - but the act of doing so always calmed me. I could leave the office for lunch and feel frazzled and many days angry at how I'd been treated by one of my managers - sometimes on the verge of quitting my job - and then I'd sit down with Mister Rogers and his peaceful, peace loving demeanor and his neighborhood cast of characters and before long, I felt like I'd just been on vacation. No joke. I'd go back to work in a complete zen state.

Besides the kindness that practically oozed out of his pores, I love that Fred always loved learning new things and sharing them with his audience. I love the little field trips that he'd take us all on - sometimes to factories and sometimes to the imaginary shops in the "Neighborhood". As an adult watching the show now, I can't help but giggle a little at how fake the shops and the neighborhood look. They seem as if a stiff wind would knock them down, revealing the studio where the show was filmed. As a kid I never noticed one inch of that. I was too transfixed on Mister Rogers and practically hypnotized by his honesty and the overwhelming feeling that he actually cared about me although we'd never met.

He always tried to stay relevant to whichever generation of children was watching his show at the time.  When you figure that he did the show for over three decades, that's no easy feat! Here he is taking part in some breakdancing with a great young dancer named Jermaine:



See how he seemed so enthused to not only learn Jermaine's moves but to also encourage him? You could almost see him fighting back the urge to jump off of those steps and start cheering as the boy set that cardboard on fire.

He was a truly beautiful man and I hope that his show is on reruns until the end of time. I know that he wouldn't be every kid's cup of tea. Kids these days are used to so much whiplash action in the media that they view - even on their educational shows - but I know that there would still be some kids that would latch on to Mister Rogers like I did and feel companionship on days when they feel all alone. Or confirmation that feelings are okay on days when they don't understand the range of emotions that a growing child's hormones can bring.  Children are often taught to control their emotions and they get buried deeper and deeper as they age, turning them into adults who can't handle anger or sorrow or any of the entire cast of emotions that this world brings. I hope that there is always a brief respite in each day where a child (or frazzled adult) can turn on the TV and be immersed in a world where it's okay to show emotion and wonder and compassion.

If not on all days but just for today, let's all ask ourselves "What Would Fred Do?" as we go about our daily routines. Let's temper our anger with understanding and squelch our adult-like apathy with childlike wonder. Say nice words to someone that we love or better yet, a complete stranger. Think before we speak. Heal before we hurt. Practice love before we allow hatred to spread. Realize that even though we don't have talking cats living in trees and chirping trolleys running through our days, we still all live in the same big "neighborhood".

Today, I have a Mister Rogers record playing and the final cut on the record seems silly and sing-song at first but I think that the last two lines span all ages and peoples and speak to a timeless desire that we've never truly been able to make a reality.

Peace and quiet.

Peace, peace, peace.

Peace and quiet.

Peace, peace, peace.

Peace and quiet.

Peace, peace, peace.

We all want peace.

We all want peace. 

It's interesting that if you ask most people, they would say that they want a world of peace and love but for the most part, it's always out of our grasp. It seems that if we could all view this vast world that we live in as a mere "neighborhood" and not as an enormous planet where small actions don't have ripple effects we'd be so much better off. What if we thought of every other person on this planet as our next door neighbors - as if we'd have to face them each day when we stand in our driveway and watch their children play in the yard? Would we make better and kinder decisions?

It's always been confounding to me that there are so many wars and so much sadness - and an utter lack of understanding for the fellow man and woman when in essence, we all want the very same things. We merely want peace and love for ourselves and for our children. Sometimes, there seems like there is a huge divide but in the end, we're all the same. It's hard to comprehend why we often feel so divided when at the core, we all want the very same things.

Let's do our part. To make that easier we must only ask ourselves "What would Fred Do?"





Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

My Office - Finally Complete!

Oh hallelujah! My office /craft room / happy place / is now complete! I've been working on it pretty much nonstop since we bought the ranch four years ago. This is how the room looked when we bought the house.

The above photo shows our "we'll paint it green phase"-  but every color looked horrible when bounced off of the brown. Thus began a laborious bout of priming. I'm pretty sure that there is a room in Hell where those who are condemned do nothing but prime walls for all eternity. Uggh.

All in all, the room was a dark and moody place with the brown walls and carpet  I can understand having a moody bedroom - which is what this room was to the old owners - but a creative space? No way. It just wasn't going to work. We immediately ripped the carpet up. Underneath was black concrete and it stayed like that for quite some time while we flip-flopped back and forth on a flooring choice. The Mr. and I are flip-floppers.



Here you'll see one of the many tries to get the aqua that only I could see in my mind. Poor Mr.  Kitsch hand-mixed colors over and over until he created the color that was in my head. I bet we tried two dozen colors in that room with a brief detour into the world of corals and peaches before coming full-circle to attempt the magical aqua again.  And I'll never forget pulling up the thousands of carpet strip nails and staples out of that concrete. Mister Kitsch used real tools but I swore that a fork was the best method. Until it went straight through my knee.

But sooner or later, we did get the perfect aqua and had some hardwood floors put down. Since then it's been a long and drawn-out process to dress up the aqua box of a room - and kind of a challenge to save up for and wait on the right pieces - but it's finally done!




Here is the desk that I got in South Carolina for thirty dollars. It's an old teacher's or lab desk and it's super heavy and has great, deep drawers.  One of them was stamped with the name of an insurance company in my hometown which made me pretty happy because both my Grandfather and Dad used to hawk the insurance back in the day. I'm pretty sure that whoever sat at this desk spent a lot of time cursing my kinfolk from the rival insurance company for completely kicking their butt in sales!    Yes, this is where the magic happens.  

Except there would normally be a box of Cheez-Its there to the left of the computer. Or a cat sitting in that bowl. And a computer mouse. I hid that because it's ugly. Staging for photos is hard work and sometimes makes no sense. I'm not one of those people who is going to pretend like my house is always clean and my kids are never sassy. Well, not for long anyway. I have no idea what's in that left drawer. There, I said it. 

Here is the light fixture that I got for three bucks.

Something about it reminds me of the circus. Mister Kitsch did some rewiring for me. It was probably fine without but I recommend this with most old lights. I kept the old color intact because well, I generally just like to leave things in their original state. You can gather from that statement that I am either a purist...or just lazy. Take your pick. 

That desk and the light meant that the room was finally done. Thank you thrifting and Jesus. 

Last year, we saved  to get these glass cabinets from IKEA and it was a pretty happy day when they came. They were horrible to put together but once they were done, let me tell you - I shoved so much stuff in those babies! I can't lie - when the doors are opened, the smell of old books and cans of ancient floor wax wafts out. 

Thanks to the kitties most everything in my house has to be behind glass.
You know what though? It means less dusting so I'm totally in!

Part of the shelves are designated to a collection that I am strangely obsessed with. Old packaging!

You'll also see that this is where Mr. "I'm driving a penis" Squirrel went to live.

Most people are surprised when they come into my house that I don't have tons of stuff everywhere considering that I do love tackiness and have "Kitsch" in my name. I think for the most part, I reserve the largest part of it for this one room - which is now at full capacity. Hmm....where can we put more shelves? 

Here is my crafting table. We got this at Habitat for Humanity for a steal. 

Sometimes Mr. Kitsch likes to sit there and pretend like I'm interviewing him for a job.   Hey to Mishka on the windowsill! We got her in the backyard. She was a neighborhood feral when we moved here and it took two years to get her to trust us. Now she's sitting fat and wondering why she waited so long. 

My friend Karen made those pretty curtains for me from some old cloth that she found in Canada. I love the combo of red and aqua so knew immediately that it was the fabric that I wanted in the room.

This side of the room is pretty lackluster but finally saving up for that murphy bed was a huge victory. It meant that half of the room wasn't taken up by a guest bed that hardly ever got used. Murphy beds aren't cheap and if you're on a budget like us, they take quite some time to save up for but let me tell you - if you're sharing your creative space with a bed, it's totally worth the effort! I could go my entire life without looking at another lumpy futon or space-wasting guest bed. Mr. Kitsch found these guys on the side of the road.   

And here is where I keep all of my crafting supplies, found granny crafts and paper ephemera. 

Hello Mr. Kitten Pants, you adorable moody-butt cat, you!

I got the cabinet at the Tennessee Antique Mall. Talk about heavy! Mr. Kitsch painted it for me.

The trays up top represent two of my favorite things: holidays that revolve around food - and Mammoth Cave. Ooh! You know what would be fun? A holiday meal in a cave! 

Once again, I cram a lot of stuff behind glass. I've always thought that things look less junky behind glass. Don't correct me if I'm wrong! Let me happily live awash in the misconception. 

I say that if you're in a space that you don't love, don't let it get you down.  Sometimes, it takes a while to get just what you want and the wait is a hard one. Trust me when I say that I am the most impatient person in the world! My room isn't everyone's cup of tea but it's definitely what I'd hoped for at the end. A place where I can look around and get cheered up when sad - or inspired when in a rut. And obviously somewhere that I can store all of the things that I drag home because I know that I'd be even happier and inspired if they are around me.    This concludes the before-and-after tour of my office. Thanks for stopping by! Now where did I put those Cheez-Its?

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha

Home Again, Home Again Jiggety Jig!

Does anyone remember that nursery rhyme? Do kids even read nursery rhymes anymore? Would kids even understand why someone would go to the market to buy a fat pig like in the aforementioned line?  I truly don't know. Anyway....

We made it home from Marchmas ( AKA "A crazy late Christmas") with my family out of state. Holy moly, we had a great time.  One of our favorite things to do while home is to hit the thrift stores. My Mom is a serious thrifter and my brother always takes off of work for the day to join us. Without fail, there is Mexican food and a full trunk full of loot by day's end. I'm always talking about how I don't need any more "stuff" but once I hit my hometown, the thrift stores always seem to have the best bargains and so many things that you just don't see in Nashville. It's hard to resist buying things that we could never afford here in the thoroughly-picked-over-by-resellers thrifts.

Quite honestly, I haven't even fully begin to register what I brought home yet. It's still all piled in my office and on the sunporch. Let's just say that when we left my hometown, this is how the car looked.


Fully Loaded! 
Thank God we took the seats out before we went out of town. We drove home like this, praying that we wouldn't get in a wreck because surely, it would mean death by school desk. That's the biggest thing that you see there. I got an old teacher's desk for $30 at one of the first thrift stores that we hit. Let me tell you - that thing took up the whole car! On our final day before leaving to come back to Nashville, it took us TWO hours to figure out how to get the car doors to shut and I had things under my legs and feet. Let me just say that we crawled out of that car like contortionists when we finally hit our driveway many hours later.

We saw this guy at one of the thrifts and it made us feel a little better about our choices.



You should have seen this guy and his friend struggling to get that couch on top of their car. The driver had to climb in and out of the car window like one of the Duke boys and the passenger ended up going home in a taxi. But not just any taxi..

...a taxi loaded down with a chest of drawers! We roll hard in my hometown. 

Back to the desk now.  I was really thrilled to get the desk because there have been two things that I have been seeking for a long time to complete my home office - a desk and a ceiling light fixture. Later that same day, I found a vintage light fixture at another store for three bucks. That right there is a thirty three dollar home office makeover! How do ya like me now, HGTV? Once the sun comes back to Nashville, I'll take some photos of them.



Besides the desk, I got this portrait shown here and another one of a tiny lipped man that the Mister suggests that I name "Keith".  The scale of this shot is so crazy. It makes the portrait look tiny but it's actually the huge thing wrapped in a blanket that you see in the car shot. 
We're having huge storms with lightning and tornado warnings here today. This morning a bank of Poltergeist looking clouds drifted over my hood and it was then that we started emptying the tornado shelter (AKA "the closet jammed with way too many Christmas decorations at the end of the hall"). I think I'd better use this dark, dreary day to start going through the pile of "what on Earth did I bring home?". Oh, I forgot to mention that on top of the thrifting, my family celebrated Christmas so there are also Christmas presents mixed into the mayhem. I even had to leave presents with my Mom because they wouldn't fit into the car! That's totally embarrassing to admit. I keep telling the Mister that we need a cargo van. Or a tractor trailer.

I hope that you all are having a great Monday and if you're a thrifting fan like me, hopefully you've had some great adventures and finds lately. It's that Spring cleaning time of the year and hopefully, folks will be dropping more and more of their trash to become our treasures at the thrifts!

Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha