T+4

So, the weekend...

All said, it was good.  Fun to have the (immediate) family around, even if things were a little cramped.  It stressed out the cat, but she's ok now.  She did have one moment of sheer bliss when somebody left the cover off the butter dish.  Doing great with the dental situation, btw.

I was hopeless in the kitchen on Thursday, lacking the manual strength to even crush garlic.  I was also feeling pretty lousy generally by then, so I showed my mother where all the ingredients were and spent most of the day lying down.  She was fine with this, but I wish I could have participated a bit more.  Sorry I didn't get pictures of the result.

Friday was a bit better and we did the downtown thing.  There's a German Christmas market in Daley Plaza every year, so we went there.  It was crowded and really cold, but fun.  Then, the Christmas window displays at Macy's/Fields.  These are always designed around a narrative in clumsy verse, and are elaborately (for a shop window) animatronic.

After that, we went to see the new contemporary wing of the Art Institute, which my sister and I enjoyed, at least.  There were some surprising things (a Pollock landscape?). Art became a lot more fun when I finally paid enough attention to realize that I prefer expressionism.

Rounding off the weekend, once everyone was returned to their dismal little towns, I saw a fantastic production of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead with a friend yesterday evening.  It's received extremely good reviews and absolutely deserved all of them.

Still feeling pretty blah, but at least I've moved from "kind of need to stay near my bed all day" to, "would really prefer to stay near my bed all day, for reasons better than general laziness."  It's enough that I called off my day by mid-morning. Naps are good.

T-1

Turkey time approaches here in my Hobbit-hole.  Shopping is done, and the final menu looks like this:

• Turkey, with rosemary treatment.
• Stuffing and cranberry a la Mom.
• Large pan of roasted root veggies (plus mushrooms and sprouts).
  
• Corn.
• Creamed spinach.
• Yeast rolls.
• Pie.

The snag: for whatever reason (probably weather), this month has been rather arthritic.  Fall is usually a bit like that, but some acquaintances with similar conditions, like RA, agree that this year is worse than usual, despite not being very cold yet.  I'm tired and kind of hurt all over at the moment, but the hands are the worst (that's normal for me).  So, I'm thinking about tomorrow's prep work:

• Turkey: intimate and extensive handling of a heavy, cold thing.  Not so good.
• Veggies: Chopping lots of hard things into small pieces.  Ditto.
• Rolls: kneading.  Could be worse, but probably pushing it.
• Corn: can-opening.  This I can probably handle. 

Etc. So it's good there's only immediate family coming, people who won't be put out when I ask them to make up the guest bed themselves. I may be relegated to an administrative role in the kitchen. Today I'm applying a warm cat to my hands, and a warm laptop to my knees.  So far, so good. 

While things are all holiday prettified, I'll be sure to catch some photos of the refined decor.  The bedroom (which I don't think you've seen at all) isn't quite done, but it's much improved.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. :)

Mella vs. the American Festival of Beige Foods

I've mentioned more than once that my relationship with Thanksgiving sits uncomfortably somewhere between Ambivalent and Belligerent.  My reasons for this pretty much all have to do with the meal itself.  Thanksgiving dinner is apparently one of those high points of the year that has people rapturous in anticipation.  And I just don't like it that much.  I'm generally indifferent to turkey, not at all fond of stuffing, and insulted by the combination of sweet potatoes and marshmallows, and the other elements of the meal just aren't things I'd ordinarily care to put together in one meal, if I thought to eat them at all.  All in all, if I had to put together The Celebratory Dining Event of the Calendar Year...it wouldn't look much like what we're supposed to be fawning (and slaving) over on Thanksgiving Day.  Also, the sheer abundance that's expected makes me uncomfortable.

The fact that everyone else is so excited about the whole thing does make it worse.  It's like that band everyone was so crazy about in junior high that you just didn't get the big deal about. (I'm leaving the atrocious construction of that last sentence because it's necessary to the effect.)  Even if you'd otherwise be happy ignoring the whole thing, the ambient enthusiasm starts to wear you down and make you cranky.

And there's the stuff I brought up at Wende's the other day - the fact that the holiday tends to make people throw sense and good taste to the wind in the name of some bizarre form of nostalgia.  To be fair, I sometimes try to consider the possibility that that isn't what's happening at all, that people actually like dry boxed stuffing and corn syrup-infused canned cranberry jelly, and that I only assume it's an insane devotion to tradition because I don't like those things, but it's exhausting to think like that for very long.

I also find the whole thing to be emotionally manipulative ("Sure, I'm thankful, but it's none of your business."), but I'll admit that at that point I'm just being petulant.  Still, attempts to make people share their thankfulness over dinner have never been tolerated in my home of origin.

Despite the above, I find myself hosing my immediate family for Thanksgiving this year.  This is actually good for a few logistical reasons.  My parents are rarely able to travel to us on holidays because of the Sunday morning factor - religious and weekend holidays are out, obviously.  My mother's schedule is freer than usual this fall because her library is closed for a four-month asbestos abatement project (eek).  I'm now centrally located between my parents and my sister the blond artist.  And both of us have lately gotten to the point of giving up on Thanksgiving travel altogether - it's a difficult trip to make, just to do it again a month later for Christmas (and we'll both always be home then until personal obligations or future acquired familial connections dictate otherwise, or if my parents decide to spend their retirement as missionaries in Zimbabwe or something - Christmas is low-pressure and all around good with us). 

Still, though, it's an event.  Though my kitchen is fairly enormous, very little of that space is countertop.  I just refuse to scrape together 17 different side dishes, even if I had that many pans to cook them.  And I'm no longer up to being the annoying person who insists on swapping the turkey for Beef Wellington, just on principle.

Mom and I started talking through the menu on Saturday, and I think a tentative plan is emerging:

• Turkey: it's turkey. What's there to say?  May do something with rosemary. (Aside: butcher called this afternoon and said, "I'm afraid I have some bad news."  It was just that their supplier had messed up and they had to substitute my order for a different variety, but it's still not a phrase you expect to hear from the grocer.)
• Stuffing:  I'm not fond of conventional bread stuffing, but my dad's into it, so I'm making mom bring the fixings.  Ditto cranberry, even though that would be simple enough to pick up.
• Roasted root vegetables and maybe some squash: I need my vegetables as savory as possible, and if I use up all my bakeware on this, nobody will be able to make candied yams.
• Corn: Maybe?  Easy, though.
  
• Creamed Spinach: Maybe? It's one of my favorite things in the whole wide world.  After 30 years of indifferent platters of starch, I say I deserve it.
• Insalata Caprese: Maybe? It came up as a suggestion that made sense at the time, though it probably doesn't go with turkey.  Mostly dependent upon November tomato conditions, though I'll need to think hard about sourcing decent mozzarella.  Our standards were set by the stuff our Italian landlord used to make, but I rather doubt his process would meet with FDA approval.
  
• Rolls: from scratch, family recipe. They will not be shaped like turkeys, as has occasionally happened in the past.
  
• Pies:  Mom will bring, since they're inconvenient to make same-day, and I won't really have the time to deal with it beforehand.
  

Serious Furniture Karma

I had quite an amazing stroke of luck while out at the thrift stores the other day. (The eternal quest for end tables continues. I also keep my eyes open for other kinds of pieces that fit in the back of a Sable and can be transported by a not-especially strong woman. Which means the whole enterprise is more like museum-going than shopping. So I find myself thrifting far more often than I ever did living in greater Boston, since the differences in regional style result in a selection of merchandise far more to my liking here.)

My last stop was a shop in Arlington Heights that always has a lot of furntiture, most of it quite appealing - it's a charity store connected to the hospital/senior center/hospice/somethingorother, so I suspect they must get a lot of estate goods. I was drawn to three pieces in a quasi-set, solid wood, Stanley, very sturdy, moderate finish issues. Heavy. I admired them, then wandered off in search of portable treasures, and actually found a rather lovely, but difficult to photograph, piece of art.

Could stand a less dated frame, but I like it.

As I was leaving with my art, I remembered that, since they specialize in large, heavy things, this place also provides local delivery for a nominal fee. Hm. Something to think about.

That was Saturday; on Tuesday, I realized that I was decidedly finished thinking about it, and dashed over to the shop right after work. Delivery to where? No problem! Three pieces at once? Thirty percent discount! Mark sold, wrap in plastic, schedule delivery. Yippee.

Received them today - I love living close enough to work that I can zip back at lunchtime. Couldn't be happier.

Onion lamp has a shiny new friend.

Can't wait to dress up this corner.

The thing on the left will be moving to the guest room.

As luck would have it, DHL man came with my new mattress just as I was about to go back to the office, so I took delivery of that, too. (Yes, I've been busy shopping. I've also been waking up in pain for the last two weeks, so I figured it was definitely time to spring for the new mattress I'd been eyeing. Got a good deal on that, too.)

I also did a little portrait photography before I left.

Lexi, plotting her revenge against me for locking her in the bathroom while the delivery guys were here.

Life at Garden Level

Glorious spring day in Chicagoland, and kids were out playing when I came home from work. Two little girls and a boy, aged around 6-8, were out on the lawn right outside my kitchen window, and said hello as I went into the building. It being so warm out, I opened the windows right away, which the three kids saw as an invitation to talk to me through the screen while I puttered about in the kitchen.

I should specify that I...lack a natural affinity for children. As long as they're not being overtly obnoxious brats, they can be entertaining for periods of less than five minutes. At higher doses I quickly get frustrated and panicky and weepy, even if the kids are still behaving in a way that normal adults find adorable. It's me, really, it's just me. Fortunately, I wasn't in a Wicked-Witch-from-Hansel-and-Gretel mood.

Lexi came in and jumped up in the window, but the fact that there were people there spooked her, and she ran off.

Kid: Why did the cat run away?
Mella: She's not that friendly. Sometimes she's scared of people.
K: Why?
M: I think she's just a little skittish.
K: What does skittish mean?
M: Um...it means she's easily startled by noises and things.
K: Do you have a baby?
M: Me? Oh, no.
K: Because I hear something that sounds like a baby crying sometimes.
M: Oh, that must be the cat.
K: You have a cat?
M: (Um, yeah, short term memory girl.) Yes...here, let me see if I can get her to come back.

(I go retrieve Lexi but she wants nothing to do with the window urchins, and wriggles away.)

K:I've never seen a cat like that! What kind of cat is that?

(Never seen a Siamese cat? Don't kids watch cartoons any more?)

K: What are you doing?
M: I'm loading the dish washer.
K: Oh, I know someone with a dish washer!
M: (You live here. You have a dish washer in your own kitchen.) Hm.

K: Don't you have a daughter?
M: (Is she looking for playmates?) No, I don't.
K: Why not?
M: (Reproductive biology lesson? Nah.) Well, because I'm not married, for one thing.
K: Well, you need to get married!
M: (Holy Grapefruit, it's begun.) Ha Ha. Ok, I'll work on it.
K: My mom and dad are married.
M: Oh, that's good, I'm glad. Hey, don't lean on the screen, I don't want it to break.
K: Can we come into your house?
M: (Oooooh, boy.) No, I don't think that's a good idea.
K: Why not?
M: Well, I have some things I have to do tonight, and also, it's not a good idea for you to go into strangers' houses.
K:You're a stranger???
M: (Oh dear...) Yes, we've never met before, have we?
K: But you're nice.
M: (Drat, gotta work on that). Er, thank you.

K: Did your dad go to work?
M: Well...I'm sure he did, but he lives in New York.
K: NEW YORK??? Where does your mom live?
M: She lives in New York, too, with my dad.
K: Why do they live so far away?
M: Well...that's where they live. That's where their house is, and their jobs. I live here, and my job is here.
K: But why don't they live with you?
M: Well, for one thing, I'm 28.
K: Oh yeah? Well I'm 7 and my parents live with me!
Older sister pipes up: That's because we're kids, stupid! (to me) It's good they're not dead. My mom's parents are dead. They died before I was born. So they're my ancestors, not my relatives.
M: Er...
K: So you live here by yourself?
M: Yep.
K: What do you do in there???

K: (spies Blue Sam through window) Is that a picture of your cat?
M: No, that's just some art.
K: Who made it? Do you color?
M: Hm, no I don't think I've colored in a while.
K: Why not?
M: Well, when you grow up, you usually have fun doing other things.
K: Like what?
M: Well, I like to read books.
K: Can you read us a book?
M: (This is becoming more worrisome, and I'm approaching saturation) You know, I don't think I have any kid books. I only have long books.
K: That's ok.

At this point, and I'm not kidding, they broke into a spontaneous fist fight and ran off.

Back To the House, or, The Post You Thought You'd Never See

Consistent with my usual failure to follow through, I never really posted final pictures of my living room. This is mainly because I was really dragging my feet about the finishing touches. Eventually it got to the point where I just had to give in and decorate for Christmas. I'm ready now, so...

For reference, the before shots are here. The floorplan is approximately this.

Facing the window, the right wall. The couch cover project
is still not done. It will be brown and red.


Left wall. The reclining bookshelf wants to be a Danish Modern
sideboard when it grows up.

And center. Remember the comfy gold chairs?

The star of the show, Mr. Greek-Nationalist Canadian Table.


The Big Shelf, supporting my primary obsession.
Where did I put my books before I owned this monster?



A relatively recent acquisition, next to my etiquette book collection.
He weighs considerably more than a real cat.


Carmella, the overexposed Guatemalan angel.



I looked for years before I found a creche that I liked that didn't cost
hundreds of dollars. Found this last year. They sort of have faces.


Ethiopian Triptych. Not purchased in Ethiopia, in case
there was any confusion. Never been there.

Rather than the end-of-AT housewarming, I had resolved to do some heavy-duty cocooning, and then entertain a bit later on in the year. Honestly, I haven't yet followed through on my grand-scale cocooning event. I'll try again for New Year's Day. I did manage to follow through on the party, though, which just took place. It was a small gathering of young ladies from church for a Christmas party. We had lots of good food and nice Christmas music and played games. I may have to write more about it in future, as it's got me thinking hard about hospitality and what it means - the latest part of an ongoing internal conversation.

And in case I don't get a later chance to say it, Merry Christmas (or other preferred festivity) to all you lovely, smart, fun ladies!

Freezing Fog Advisory

That's the forecast for tonight. I admit it's a new one to me. Speaking of forecasts, here's a preview of things to come:

Look look look look look look look look!!!

Edited - right photo this time.

Tada! Look who's here!

He's still getting settled in - his permanent home won't be in front of the big shelf - but he just wanted to say hi to everyone.

We're getting on splendidly so far.

Part of the packaging...

(Ikea Isn't Really) Just Like Heaven

Stopped by Ikea on after work to pick up a gross of bookends for the big shelf. (Well, it sure seemed like that many - the friendly yellow-shirted employee was amused by the quantity I actually did pick up and offered to get me a whole case. Fortunately, the big shelf isn't quite that big.) They were playing The Cure. Again.

Today's teaser is on the left here, but I also liked this version that I created by accident while editing:

Taking and posting all these little pictures actually gives me a real charge - it's a reminder that I've really gotten a lot of stuff done.

p.s. The temple bells came from Woodstock Chimes, a gift from a relative who works there. If you're into windchimes, by the way, these are the Cadillac.

Wardrobe Cure Interview - Volume 3

Yes, this is certainly getting good...

Your Wardrobe

What is the problem with your wardrobe?

1. I’m very bad at getting around to maintenance (repair, replacement, laundry). Which is the same problem my apartment has.


2. I know my taste and what suits me quite well; however, the labor of shopping to find same in the right shape, size, and price point sometimes makes me delirious and robs me of all basic powers of discernment. I know I'm not alone here.
   

If your wardrobe could speak, what would it say is the problem?

Most of the players would say, “Mom, I’m bored!”

But a select 5% or so would say something like: “Hey, you’re pretty handy, you know. We really liked that cute gold blouse you made for last year’s office party – it was just perfect with the winter white dinner suit. And that last handbag you made? The green one? Love it. You should totally sell those! Oh, and the scarf you crocheted for Ali last Christmas? Gorgeous. So…WHY THE **** CAN’T YOU BE BOTHERED TO SEW ON A **** BUTTON, WOMAN?” I would scold them for swearing in the house, but as you can see, they’re quite adept at flattery, and they have a valid point, after all.

What one thing do you want your wardrobe to do more of?

Delight me. I dressed in my uniform (see Volume 2) today and love how it makes me feel. I want to be able to feel that way every day, at least so far as clothing can be held responsible for such things.

How do you want people to describe your wardrobe?

1. Restrained.


2. Flattering.


3. Tasteful.

Wardrobe Cure Interview - Volume 2

I'm dressed as an engineering consultant for Halloween - how 'bout you?



How You Live & The People Around You

If there were a uniform for the place where you spend most of your time, what would it be? You mean work? It’s a tad casual. Lots of chinos and corduroy and occasionally jeans, paired with perma-press shirts, sweaters, polos, and, for the ladies, trivial little blouses. Our local office also has a pleasing culture of excellent shoes for men.

I run on the formal side of average myself, but mostly because it’s what comes naturally, and because, at heart, I think I really am a Northeasterner who just prefers the company of Midwesterners.

If there were a uniform for where you spend your leisure, what would it be? Like Wende, I'm currently engaged in Adventures in American Regionalism. Lately I’ve been observing the subtle differences between New England Upscale Suburban Mom at Starbucks and Midwestern Upscale Suburban Mom at Starbucks. I adhere to neither, because:

1. I’m not a mom, nor anywhere near becoming one (and I'm kind of allergic to children anyhow).


2. I’m not really suburban, New England or Midwest, except as a matter of geography.


3. Confession: I despise capri pants with a vitriol typically reserved for cable news, hip hop, and Oprah (the phenomenon, not the woman). Ditto ¾ sleeves. I know they're much beloved by lots and lots of people, but I don’t do limb-severing fashion.

If you, yourself, had a uniform, what would it be? Wende’s “Brunching Intellectual” gets me about right if we adjust for climate. Give me some neutral wool slacks (jeans on the weekend), moderately-styled boots, hoop earrings in gold and silver, and a small European country full of fine gauge turtleneck sweaters, and I’m in top form to face the world. See Gwynnie in the movie referenced in Volume 1. That’s me, only much more...lanky.

I do make the occasional detour into tailored boho. And naturally I love a great dress.

Wardrobe Cure Interview - Volume One

And now for something (almost) completely different.

Wende's Wardrobe Cure is off to a smashing start. Here's the first installment of my interview.

Favorites

Candidate for "Best Dressed," real or fictional. Bette Davis in All About Eve; Gwynneth Paltrow in Posession. Scarlett Johansson in real life, in honor of her refusal to wait until she's 45 to start dressing like a real, live grownup. And a certain woman I once worked with who was completely disagreeable in every way except for her fashion sense, for which she became my professional role model.

Favorite garment/outfit EVER. I can’t believe I’m writing this, and it can't possibly be the actual, literally accurate answer to this question, but... I keep coming back to my prom dress. Extra-dark emerald green (God's gift to redheads), fit like it was custom made for me, and styled in such a way that it would suit me completely and look absolutely current if I put it on right now, yet didn't make me look dowdy at 16. And it was on sale - $50 in the mid-90s at some independent bridal shop in the East Bay.

Current favorite garment. This is hard. Maybe...the brown shirt dress, the green shirt dress, the purple cashmere sweater, the black round-toe pumps, the brown leather blazer. Or possibly the utterly fabulous brown and teal dress bought on clearance and later spotted, incongruously, in an article about "how to dress sexy for a hot date when you're over 40." For the record, I'm 28, and I've mostly been wearing the dress to church...

Favorite thing to wear, if reality weren't an issue in any way, shape, or form. Wrap dresses. I love the look, and I love what they do for me…except that they’re usually designed around a differently proportioned torso than mine, and end up being unworkably immodest without major renovations. (As in, I’d be showing off less if I were a in a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot, and safety pins don't even start to help.) I'm sure there's some version out there that would work for me, but I haven't found it yet, and I've looked a lot.

Favorite store, given unlimited wealth. Honestly, all I can think of is Ann Taylor. There are many more thrilling options, but that’s the one that consistently has on offer the largest selection of things I would actually want.

Favorite fashion faux-pas story to tell, now that the scars have healed. Well, I was out clothes-shopping a few years ago, and, unbeknownst to me, I was wearing a Velveteen Rabbit in an advanced stage of reality. It was a cute little shirt given to me by a friend during high school that I was still wearing quite happily at age 24 or so. I took some things to the dressing room, and when I took off my shirt to try them on, it basically fell apart at the seams. It was just enough intact that I could make it back to the car without shoplifting or being arrested for indecency.

More to come...

Kitchen Details

Back to the kitchen for some finishing touches and some of those little things Alana was talking about:

I found this clock at a thrift store on Saturday and thought it would jive with the Warhol Kitchen.

Factory cool, yes? Here it is in context:

Speaking of Warhol, Sam, Sam and Sam have a new friend...Sam!

To explain: I fell in love with Blue Sam and Green Sam at a shop in Maine last year, and brought them home with me. When I moved in here, I knew I wanted to put them in the dining corner, but really needed a third Sam. The best option I could find to get my hands on Red Sam was a 2-for-1 with Gold Sam thrown in. I didn't think I'd care for Gold Sam, so I planned to go forward with the vignette of three. But Gold Sam got under my skin, so now he's up too.

Come on, who could resist those eyes?

I do have one other piece of cat art in the kitchen, that you can just see on the fridge in the Gold Sam picture above.

My Sister the Blonde Artist did this when she was about 13 in Microsoft Paint. Yeah.

And, since we were talking clocks up at the top there, here's another peak at the living room.

The Final Lap

I guess we're beginning the descent now. So much done! So much still to do! So many flowers!

I'll spend the time on general cleaning and tidying and finishing up living room stuff. The couch cover project had to go on hold for a bit because my hands weren't cooperating this weekend (I have occasional bouts of mild arthritis related to a medical issue - nothing serious, but enough that I know when to take it easy). Better now, but I'm not going to have time to finish it up in the evenings. I don't care to sew in short bouts, and still have other things to do. It's one thing I really wish I could get done, though - and the couch is looking really sad the way it is. Soon, though.

In the meantime, do you want a sneak preview of the living room? Of course you do. Here:

Belated Bathroom

Thought I might as well post the finally straightened out bathroom (vanity portion). Yet again, nothing special, but I'm glad I was given the motivation to straighten it out.

Here it was a few weeks back in just-moving-in state.

And here it is now, largely courtesy of BB&B next to my office.

Now if only I can figure out a way to stop splashing water everywhere.

Ok, I take it back.

So remember how I said I'd just be working on the living room from here on out? Well I'm a big, fat liar. (Not really - I'm just a liar of medium height and build. But whatever.) The living room is still on track, but I've been inspired in other areas. Here's what I've done so far:

• The bedroom: I have a few things to straighten up and clean that I'm still working on, nothing big. But I also made the definite decision to purchase a new mattress sooner, rather than later. Not happening right away, but it's definitely on the list now. A new bed will follow eventually. These are genuine "needs" that I just hadn't decided how to prioritize. So that's my big Cure accomplishment for Bedroom Week.

• Shopping. I started out last month with a Cure budget and a plan to devote most of it to living room protein purchases (tables, anyone?). To stay focused on the larger purchases, I decided to actively avoid some of the smaller ones for the moment, where I could easily make do with what I've got. We're talking soap dispensers and things of that ilk, but a good number of them. Well, time marches and plans change, and I came to a couple of realizations:
  

1. I'm not going to do as much LR purchasing as I thought, at least not right away, mostly because the right pieces haven't manifested yet. I know they will, as per Wende's Law of Furniture Karma (my term - I'd link to prior references but I can't find any). But I won't be incurring most of those expenses right away.
   
   
2. All those make-do things...I already know exactly what I want to replace all of these, and can trade up on them all for a pretty paltry sum.

Fortunately, with the furniture purchases postponed, I had a spare paltry sum on hand, so I did a little big box shopping after work. And things are good. Pics soon.

• Fixed the internet access issue. Finally.

Things I still plan to do:

1. Fix the cord-n-cable situation, now that the tech issues are resolved.


2. Little more shopping for things I haven't found yet.


3. Fix newly-developed tub drain clog, and/or call landpersons. Grrrr.


4. Necessary tidying.


5. Make a good start on the loveseat cover this weekend, after I...


6. ...finish the bookshelf setup (I've stalled out).

This weekend looks promising - it's supposed to rain.

Week 6 "Let's Call It Progress Anyway" Report

I'm actually pleased enough with what I got done this week, even though it's less than I had planned on, which was already less than I would have liked to do. Most of the week was eaten up by a business trip to Buffalo (motto: We have more Canadian flags than Canada!). Not the most exciting place to be, but I got to see the parents and the Sullivan architecture downtown, so all's well. But of course I couldn't clean the bathroom from 500 miles away. I also found the travel took a lot out of me, physically, and I've had to take care to rest up to nurse the fatigue and aches and pains...which also put a damper on the bathroom cleaning, etc., and may continue to do so.

So, since both time and physical capacity are running short, I think I'm switching off to the one-room remedy, so that I can actually manage to wrap up the living room. Since that was my most important goal from the beginning, I'm not disappointed.

So anyway, what did I do this week:

1. Cleaned bathroom (I did the "cleaning" but not as much of the "ordering" as I would have liked - but it's started, and it's good enough for now.)
2. Improved but didn't finalize bathroom organization.
   
3. Dealt with a Laundry Situation (which wasn't on the list, but probably should have been).
4. Dealt with new mail.
5. Bought Week 7 flowers last night.
   

Here's my list for the rest of the Cure:

1. Finish setting up the big shelf.
2. Finish loveseat recover.
3. Hang stuff on LR walls.
4. Resolve internet issue (something else I couldn't do from out of town) and,
5. Finalize cord situation.
6. Shopping list: end tables, lamp and throw blankets.
   
7. Clean all floors.
   
8. Planning for the housewarming cocoon party.
9. Get enough rest, so I can actually accomplish the above without damaging myself.
   

More Living Room.

After a little bit of rearranging (none of the big stuff yet) and sitting and thinking and fiddling with floorplan software, here's what the living room will probably actually look like at the end of the Cure.

The upper left corner will be more docking station than desk proper, due to space issues (or rather, shape of space issues). But that's ok - it's all just a starting point. I'm itching to do some serious rearranging, but it's just too hot this weekend. Freak high of 89F today, and I'm feeling sorry for all the poor souls running the Chicago marathon.

At long last...the living room.

Progress at last, after what seems to have been a rough week for everybody.

Yes, this is it! This is my living room!

I spent my ten minutes sitting in Week 1 in my too-often-underutilized, comfy gold chair in my big, weird living room. I learned and/or confirmed a few things:

1. I really do love this room, despite its mild oddities. Even in its present undressed state, I look forward to being here.
   
   
2. I've got several great pieces to work with.


3. I have no tables. No. Tables. I knew that before, but it hadn't internalized. I need tables. You don't know how much coffee I drink.
   

The Floorplan

I posted this on flickr last weekend - it's the to-scale version of the living room with my best stab at the layout to date (this isn't what it looks like currently - just my vision). Click the image for the flickr version with notes.

This is speculative, because I need more furniture. The extant pieces are the loveseat, comfy gold club chair, three table lamps, and large shelf thing shown along the top wall. I also have pieces that will stand in for the desk and TV stand for now.

The Shelf Unit

The awkwardness is in the structural layout of the top half of the room. The front door (middle right) limits use of that corner in what would otherwise be a reasonable rectangular space. I've imagined a long ottoman as the third wing of the seating area because anything but a very low-profile piece feels like it's right on top of you when you open the door. Even the comfy gold chair, which is small, is just in the way when it's near the door.

The Comfy Gold Chair

The area above that is designated "dining room" by the rental office, but that's not how I'd ever use it. For one thing, the whole room is carpeted; also, the apartment has a large eat-in kitchen that would accommodate a larger table than the "dining room." And there are all those doors surrounding it to be avoided - doors to coat and linen closets and bathroom and two bedrooms and passage to to the kitchen. So, what to do with that space?

View of "study" from living room, with chairs in waiting.

Week 2 Task: Decide what activities you want in your room and where they will go.

What I want to do here:

1. Relax
2. Read
   
3. TV/web stuff.
4. Have conversation with guests.
5. Minor desk tasks - primarily, the laptop needs a home base, but I'll also do minor paperwork and correspondence here. I'm going to set up a space in the spare bedroom for jobs that need lots of spreading out, like heavy-duty study and income tax returns. I've found that when I try to things like this on my regular desk, I just make a mess of life.
   

Here's the strategy:

1. Relax: I'm still in the mostly-hand-me-down-furniture stage of life, but I've so lucked out with respect to comfort and quality. Have I mentioned the wonderfully solid comfy gold chair (actually chairs - they're a pair but never manage to end up in the same room)? So the makings are there.
2. Read: I do a lot of this, and it largely overlaps with the above, so the same thoughts apply, plus lighting concerns.
   
3. TV, etc.: straightforward, if your seating points in the right direction. Not really a problem.
4. Guests: This is a big one - I moved in here with the intention to make hospitality a life priority. The seating area has to feel congruous. I think I'm on the right track, though I bet I'll still do a lot of moving things around.
   
5. Desking: This ties to the question of how to use the "dining room." Over on flickr, smallcitybeth suggested trying to turn that space into a real study-type area. I like that - the space certainly needs a definite purpose, and that use of it would be very consistent with the notion of my apartment being "me." Desk placement is a problem though - seems like it could go either where it's shown on the floorplan above, or against the wall between the bedroom doors. Both have drawbacks, space-wise. It will be a small piece no matter what, but that's what I want anyhow.

I realize I'm not asking any questions here, or solving any problems. I have a lot of ideas to try out and plans for color and accessories (mostly still in boxes). But if anyone has a suggestion anyhow, I'd be happy to hear it.

Have a good weekend (in progress) and everybody rest up to jump back into Week 5.

And a Landing Strip, too!

Start at the Dining Nook, bear right, and:

One slightly makeshift landing strip! Yes, that's the third chair from the dinette. And a bathroom towel hook. The former will be replaced by a shelf or small bit of furniture at some point, but because of the shape, size, and placement of the space around the door, it'll take some time to find the right thing. The latter may be replaced by a classier version of itself whenever I get to HomeGoods. The coat and boots are just for show, so far.

It's hard to find a door mat, or a bath mat, that's thin enough to allow a door to open over it. Plush is the order of the day; massive gaps under the door are not.

p.s. My much beloved kitchen is even more beloved now! Sam, Sam, and Sam make me so happy. :)