After a 6th day of sore-throat, snot-nosed, achy-necked sickness, I am finally starting to feel better. Yesterday, I cam home from work early, as my capacity to speak audibly had departed, and my overall physical state was rubbish. I took a couple of aspirin and a couple of knock-off Nyquil liquicaps, and collapsed on the sofa. The cat thoughtfully deposited herself in the middle of my chest, and we napped on the sofa for about two and a half hours. Then I got up, got Todd up, moaned around a bit, made dinner, and went to bed. I called in sick today, still minus a speaking voice, took more medicine, and slept until 11:30 a.m.
Since I have been up, I've taken some moe aspirin, guzzled tea, and repotted a couple of plants and took all of the rest of my plants off the window ledges and put them on the brick-and-board shelves I brought in off the back step during the weekend.
It occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that it is starting to get pretty damned cold outside, and we don't have storm windows. Indeed, we have very old-fashioned counter-weight(broken) windows that rattle a bit when the wind is wrong. In our old apartment, we had considerable ice build up on the insides of the windows, and while we have better heat in this new place, I don't want my century plant garnering any new frostbite scars. Also, with the plants off the window, it will make it a lot easier to tape the cracks and shrink-wrap them if it is necessary.
With the shelves inside, plus the canvas director's chairs we use for deck chairs on the balcony, plus all the plants down from the sills, plus the big planters for the herbs(also brought in for the season) the living room has taken on a very crowded post-modern-Victorian look.
We've got the damned oddest collection of paraphernalia that gets counted as home decor. the 3' tall orange roadcone that the Mr. and two of his old school buddies nicked on a roadtrip through Yellowstone (unofficial vacation souvenir) The multicolor and clear fairy lights around the shelves and windows. The all-season rubber bats hung from the archway between the living and dining rooms. The reproduction Victorian cardboard jumping-jacks hung along the top of the dining room/kitchen wall. The nifty, '50s crome and formica “dinette set.” The *enormous* enlargement of an original-set Magic the Gathering playing card hanging above said dinette set. The Alf doll in the kitchen. The “Cook With Mushrooms” potholder my MIL gave me without knowing I'd take it as a subtle hallucinogenics joke. The apothecary jar spicerack (a cool hand-me-down from my mom) full of random bulk-bought spices hanging above the stove.
There is no unifying theme to any of the stuff in our house. Not ironically tacky, 'cause some of our stuff is actually in decent taste, or else it is unironically ass-tastic. Not “Kountry Kutie” (puke) Not southwestern, not Old Money, not space-age, not minimalistic, not romantic. It is just our old shit. Some of it is just stuff we like the look of, some of it is purely functional, some of it has sentimental value (i.e. roadcone) and some of it is just shit we're stuck with because it was given as a gift and the giver would be hella pissed off if we offed it in a yardsale.
Anyway, our house is simply not Martha Stewartized. There is nothing fashionable in it. Our pillowcases don't “tone” with the bedspread. Indeed, the bedspread is usually to be found smunched up into a long, fabric log, and shoved up against the wall. The walls are all plain white, because it is a rented apartment. If you came to visit, you wouldn't be bowled over by the elegance or prettiness of the place, but I'd hope you found it comfortable. I do. Sure, half the time it looks like a bomb went off in here because it is messy and cluttered. And sure, sometimes there are “catwads” of shedded-off fur on the sofa. And yeah, I don't probably mop the kitchen floor as often as I ought. But still, it's a decent home. We don't have a “great room” but we have a “good-enough” room. Well, we have 6 of them (livingroom, dining room, bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, and sewing room)