Project: Three Quarters Done

Bob Marley was a vibrant presence in my work room at one point.

The other three walls were painted the shade of gray in the line above Bob.

It was such a dark and dreary room to be in, even with Bob's infectious grin.

When we were looking at houses to buy, we called this entire house "The Marley House" as it was the easiest way to distinguish it from all the other houses we looked at.

(Thank heaven there WAS only one house with such a unique identifier. I would have been seriously troubled if there had been several houses with laughing Bobs on the wall.)

After we acquired the house we used the room to stack moving boxes. For several months the room was stacked to the ceiling with boxes; small passages allowed for precarious movement through the room.

This picture was taken on the glorious day that there was at last no boxes towering above our heads, and the orange floor tiles could be seen again at last.

Bob still chuckled at us each time we entered the room.

The other gray walls still dispelled any cheer from the space.

The one tiny north facing window did little to shed light in the basement room.

Shutting the door allowed us to live by the motto "Out of sight, out of mind" for a few more month.

At last Bernie could no longer handle sharing a house with Bob.

While I was away, he painted the room a pale off white, wincing and feeling a bit sick as he rolled the paint over Bob's eyes.

The orange red floor tiles: We debated re-tiling the room. We just couldn't decide what we would like to do differently. It was to be a work room; carpeting was out as I am well known for my ability to strategically drop pins and needles into carpeting to await opportunities to assault Bernie's bare feet. Tile would give him a fighting chance of avoiding both pins and bloodshed.

(With this patterned tile, even if he did get stabbed by a wayward pin, you would hardly see any bloodstains on the tile anyway!)

Lately I have been noticing how many television sets, movie scenes and houses have been sporting orange walls to good effect. My drug of choice, IKEA, had room walls painted orange.

My favorite television show NCIS is shot in a room with orange on every wall. I just love how it looks on the show.

(I'm still laughing that one dear friend, who is totally addicted to the show, said that she hadn't noticed the shows color scheme when I mentioned it as an inspiration for my room. Bet she notices it when she watches the show now!)

A trip to the paint store for several orange paint samples, and I set about pondering the perfect orange shade. (Painting/decorating tip: Grab several paint chips of each color, and tape them up together as a larger square. Much easier than buying the paint and painting up a sample square big enough to imagine the paint color on an entire wall.)

A deeper red orange drew me emotionally, but in the end the brighter orange that contrasted a bit with the floor allowed the floor to become a secondary feature instead of a floor-to-ceiling color element.

(Update: How about this little factoid: The color orange is associated with joy, according to the internets. And it also stimulates mental activity and increases the oxygen supply to the brain. Isn't that just perfect for a work room space?)

Three walls got painted orange, and one of those walls was covered with an IKEA fabric (above) curtain that sported just a tiny touch of orange. It took me an hour to dither about my selection at the store, going from yellow striped to navy stripes to solid white to finally this curtain.

What on earth took me so long? Of course this was the perfect choice!

There now...isn't that much nicer than looking a wall of art/sewing/crafts/games etc etc?

Everything is still at my fingertips; the curtains are light and panels open every three feet for easy access to the shelving.

I found a tension wire drapery hanger at IKEA; it is really functional as the wire is just slightly bigger than a pencil lead, and the fabric slides on it easily. Bernie was impressed; no middle support feature is necessary to keep the drapery header even.

The closet has a wire drawer unit inside and seasonal clothing storage.

The white storage unit is just there for now.

Shelving still needs to be installed. I have some framing yet to do, and a black rolling desk chair to purchase.

The brightly colored storage boxes will hold miscellaneous items on the open shelves.

Bernie will be sharing the space for fly-tying and odd projects now and then.

I imagine we will have a lot of fun being creative in the room in the future.

As I declared in the post title, the room is about three quarters of the way done.

When it is completely finished I plan to have a launch party, just like I did for the grand opening of my pink painted hat room in Houston.

For that event I served pink champagne.

For this one, I'm thinking of a blood orange sparkling cocktail, with a blackberry speared on thyme for a swizzle stick.

Various orange colored treats will be served.

And I'll invite guests with a suggestion to wear orange trimmed black cocktail hats with a modern vibe.

I'll be sure to post a "Save the Date" as the time draws near.

I do hope you will plan to attend, either in person or via a virtual appearance!

Hypocrite

Missy stopped by again.

Four inches of snow had fallen about us.

She patiently camped out on our cosy and snow free welcome mat and waited for us to be hospitable.

We weren't.

We were on the way to church.

I've heard that some folks think that all Christians are hypocrites.

I guess I'm confessing here: On Sunday we too were hypocrites.

We didn't mean what we said on the door mat.

At least not for cats.

We bid her Good Cheer and drove off in our warm heated car.

Other pussy types were also found on our street. They too were burden with the shift in weather. The warm temps had said "Welcome Spring!" but the truth was it is still winter.

As a poem I read put it:

March I hate you

You are holding hands with spring

But you are married to winter.

Hypocritical March had deal cruelly to the pussy willows as well.

Pussy cats, pussy willows and fir trees alike were confronted with the truth: Yes, it is still winter.

Wearing white: isn't that a summer fashion?

No, wearing white is a winter thing around here.

Fluffy caps top the fence; these are not to be confused with the lovely bonnets of spring.

Missy had visited via a walk through the snow.

What a long cold walk she had on her way to visit such a heartless neighbor!

Confessions: Secretly, I'm not ready for spring. I haven't had my fill of winter artistry yet.

Two tone trees rising from blankets of white make me happy.

The view from the end of the street across the valley to the snow covered mountains: I'm in no hurry to see the mountains bare once again.

Seeds can wait to sprout.

Branches heavy with snow can stay.

My view from the kitchen window can remain a study in black and white.

I can rejoice in this day of winter.

A day which proved to be just as hypocritical as I am; for five hours later all the snow was gone.

The weatherman says it will be warm on Monday.

Spring will flirt with me, but I know the truth.

We still have six more days of winter to go.

And that is only reckoning by the calendar.

Who knows what seasonal displays are yet to be enjoyed between now and the rest of the month?

Oh March.

You are such a tease.

Project: Sneak Peek

There is a whole lotta orange going on!

I'm loving how it is all turning out.

All for now.

1049

1049: That is the number of blog posts I have written and published since I began blogging.

And this is the first time I really can't think of a thing to say.

I haven't seen anything particularly worthy of a picture lately.
All my projects are at a mid point; too soon to share about them.
Nothing really profound is happening in the news.

(Hmmm....what oh what can such a lull in blogging material mean?)

I did have a conversation with my BGF Gail last night. She lives in Denver; we catch up with each other about once a week on the phone.

We compared notes on our lives at the moment. Both of us know a lot of people with lots of physically difficult situations going on. We know people who are being challenged with economic situations.

But the two of us? Right now? Not much is going on.
That's a switch. We hardly know what to make of it.

We agreed to just enjoy the moment. Life has a way of dishing up new "interesting" situations without any help on our part. A tad bit of boredom?

We'll take it!

Just how mundane is life right now?

Her son in medical school called to tell her his exciting news: He just figured out that he could hang two shirts on one hanger, and two jackets on another hanger and that would mean that he only needed two hangers instead of four.

Needless to say this information nearly struck her speechless. He is very busy with his studies, in his second year of medical school, training to be an orthopedic surgeon and he doesn't call home very often.

And this was his amazing bit of news that warranted a phone call?

She recovered from her shock and managed to ask why he suddenly wanted to have only two hangers instead of four anyway.

Oh..that was simple. He was packing to fly from Colorado to New Jersey for his first surgical conference.

The travel plans and conference were news to her. She of course is proud and pleased that he is going to such an event.

But being one of the best mothers that I know, she managed to be happy with him about the fact that he will be able to go and take only two hangers instead of four in his suitcase.

It is good to know he is still such a down to earth kind of guy who continues to find joy in simple pleasures.

We agreed: Being happy about simple things, and even mundane things is a enviable way to live.

So I'm sharing the simple thing that made a future doctor and his mother happy with you on this, my 1049th blog post, so perhaps it will make you happy too.

My baby...he's thirty.

Thirty years ago on March 7th.

Fourteen years ago.

And today.

He's thirty.

My son is a man that I am proud of.

He says he still feels like a kid though.

(I hope he always does...)

He and his bride chose to celebrate the milestone by taking a ski weekend in Jackson Hole.

We got to take care of their two kids, Meowsie, age 10, and Cheeto, who is 9 months old while they were gone.

A simple task it was, just a matter of pouring some kibble in a bowl and petting them for a few minutes.
We consider this a training period in our lives, and hope someday we will be trusted with grandkids that don't have triangular shaped ears and fluffy tails.

On the actual birthday day, Jeff and Rachel drove back to SLC and came to to our place for a dinner.

Their youngest, Cheeto, came with them.
Cheeto wasn't expected, but is always quite welcomed.

(Tiggie peered around the corner at Cheeto, then headed downstairs to try to forget what he had just seen. We have no idea what Hart did. At least both of them behaved themselves around their young nephew.)

Bernie planned, shopped for and prepared the birthday meal.

Oh so good!

Dessert was a meringue with a cream sauce and fresh fruits.

A perfect finish after a fish/brochette/garlic/tomato based meal.

Cheeto entertained us by chasing a cat toy while we caught up on life: What is going on at church, work, house hunting for them, domestic experiences, the economy.

How our cats wake us up in the morning.

How our cats are insane.

Our whole family talks constantly about our cats.
Tiggie and Cessa each have blogs, and Cheeto appears regularly on Facebook.
When we call each other, it is understood that mostly we will be discussing the latest thing our cats have done, and how cute their latest pictures were.

Cheeto in the jungle.

Cheeto on the hunt. I think his face looks like a little orange pansy.

And I think how his whiskers all point forward is cute, cute, cute.

Gramps and Rachel and Cheeto saying farewell after a fine evening.

Yes, all my children are now in their thirties.

How can that be when most days I still feel like I am only about thirty four years old myself?

And why don't they make that cute little graph thingie from Moms that are my age?

You know the ones I am talking about; that say Oscar is now 2 years, 4 months and 14 days old, with a cute little graphic of a tyke riding a train or a pony or some such, like this one: Maybe I could have one with a cute graphic of a blond haired boy skiing or riding a motorcycle, balancing a laptop and a mortgage, and underneath today it would say:

Today Jeffrey Bernard is 30 years old.

The next day it would say:

Jeffrey Bernard is 30 years and 1 day old.

I'd really like that for each of my kids.

Because you never ever get over how amazing it is to have a child.

It is an on going blessing.

Each day, each month, each year, and each decade.

(And even now, at age 30, he is still saying things that makes me laugh.

Ever heard of 13 bean soup, or maybe 14 bean soup, or something like that?

I used to make that kind of soup all the time.

Tonight Jeff told me he never could stand my 43 kinds of bean soup recipe. I laughed. And am writing it down here to remember it.)

March Meanderings

My camera goes with me wherever I go, and wherever I go I take pictures.

Pictures of beautiful things, like the first pollen dusted blossoms of this year.

that were not here yesterday.

They are the first flowers to bloom in the flowerbeds next to work; more green bits are spearing up from the thick muddy soil.

I'll be enjoying someone else's gardening efforts for a change.

Swinging by for my mammogram, I see a die-hard fan at the doctor's office, still wearing his Canada hockey jersey the day after the big win.

That made me smile.

I had to take a picture to share it with my Canadian friends.

Next up: a stop at the library to pick up a book that's come in for me.

A sign informs me that the roof top garden in now open again.

Drat; I don't have time to linger over a book up there, I'm just on a lunch break from work.

But maybe I could just take a peek for a minute and see what is going on up there.

I'm not sure I could concentrate on reading anyway, with such a view to enjoy out there.

It is March 1st, and right on time the roof top daffodils are up and ready to show off during "their" special month.

The memories come back of counting daffodil blooms every morning in the garden with Jeff, back when he was still young, and knew that daffodils would be found blooming as the time drew near to his birthday.

First buds and blossoms always catch my eye.

There are 10,000 daffodils planted up in Red Butte garden.
I'll soon be visiting there too. It will be harder to see each flower in the midst of such a display.

I've noticed over the years that it is easy to remember the first daffodil bloom each spring, and then they just keep coming...

Back inside I see that the library has mounted a showing of Chinese brush paintings.

I admire this autumnal scene; snapping a picture will allow me to share it with Bernie later.

Outside the gallery is another display: A whimsical collection of chess sets!
Alice in Wonderland, and her cohorts do make for an amusing take on chess pieces.

Perhaps chess isn't to be taken as seriously as I had thought it should be.

Personally I think a Simpson chess set is going a bit too far....

I can totally agree with Dave Barry's chess experience!

Beatrix Potter chess set: That is Just.So.Wrong.

Leaving the library, I still need to get something for lunch. I'm zooming past the Bubble Tea Room, and suddenly I find that above all else I want to get myself a Bubble Tea.

I haven't had Bubble Tea since I was in Hawaii. That was... gosh... has been six years ago now? I really didn't like Bubble Tea all that much back then. Why should it appeal to me today?

I just dunno.

(Do you like bubble tea? Have you ever had bubble tea? What did you think about it?)

There's a place to park smack dab in front of the shop. I park, go inside and find myself eavesdropping on two 20something guys talking about an amazing woman that they knew who was 75 years old. Apparently she was on a cruise or trip or something and was much more energetic about going and doing things than they would have thought possible at her age.

It made me quite happy to hear their admiration of her. Yeah for older women who make younger men regard them with a new understanding of what older women can do!

I order a cherry blended bubble tea and hit the road. This time the drink does it for me; I'll be coming back for another "hit' of this tea real soon.

Time to get back to work. Outside the building rainbow colors surround the clouds that dapple the sky overhead.

I take another picture, just because.

Back at my desk I flip through a Spa magazine, scanning spa menus and treatments.

Calico cats are dear to my heart; this one naturally catches my eye.

I'm curious why she is so neatly positioned in this ad.

Are you laughing as hard as I did when I read the article and found out why?

How do people think of this stuff????

And no, Tiggie and Hart are NOT going to get dragged in for any of this.

Denver, oh yeah, it had to be Denver where this thing was going on.

You can always count on Denver to be weird!

This is how it was for me, for part of the day, the first day of March of this year.

Nothing really special or memorable, but with pictures and words, I've captured my meanderings, and now I've shared them with you.