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This may be utterly boring to those who care nothing about house decoration on a shoestring budget, or don't celebrate Thanksgiving, or don't like good food, so be warned up front.

 

I haven't done much to my place since I bought it 4 years ago, and I woke up one day not too long ago thinking I didn't have any purpose besides work, so I married those two thoughts and decided to finish decorating my house. Granted, it's a goal that is potentially endless, but that's what makes it attractive to me. Here we go.

 

I decided to start with the dining room. I had dining room furniture, but the way it was positioned, it gobbled up (*snort*) all the floor space (it's a little house) and it was hard to get to the window side chairs:

 

 

If you can see in the upper left corner, there's a little round lamp table. I also have some cane back occasional chairs that I'd picked up for $25 each, and I have them here and there, and straddled on either side of my little compact dry bar.  Remember this old pic of my bar top that I used to post as my answer to most QoTD?:

 

 

I decided to start with the bar. I replaced the "Brand" bottles with some funky and quirky decanters I won (one at a time) on eBay. I think the most expensive decanter was about $20. It was like Christmas each day I would find the package on my porch, LOL! And so, here it is now; I still have to find a decanter I feel is fitting for the Jack, but otherwise it's complete. It's hard in this pic to see how beautiful the cobalt crystal decanter (full of Absolut) is, so I may add another pic later. I don't think it broke the thoroughbred race horse theme too much. I have a leather riding crop coming ($3.99) that I will hang below the pic and above the decanters.:

 

I turned my dining room table 90 degrees to allow better access to the chairs, and in doing so, it opened up enough floor space to arrange a second little dining bundle at the end of the room -- well within conversational reach of the main table. I used the little round lamp table and two of the cane back chairs:

 

And here's the main table in its new position; I had the tables set for dinner:

 

And since I borrowed the two cane back chairs from the bar, I purchased two 24" stools (2 for $99) that take up much less room in the traffic area, look better with the bar, and can be used at the end of the dining room table if you need to seat another guest.:

 

 

So now on to the food. It's become tradition in my tiny family unit to cook a turkey and a duckling, so that's what I did.:

 

 

They were delicious if I say so myself, and so was the gravy for the turkey and orange sauce for the duckling...not to mention the dressing, corn, roasted carrots, celery and onions, mashed potatoes, candied yams, green bean casserole, cranberry salad, and yeast rolls. (My oldest son's girlfriend made a variety of genuine Mexican salsas and chips, too.) What a feast! We had to wait a couple of hours to even think about breaking into the pumpkin and pecan pies:

 

Here's a close-up of most of the food:

And the best part of the evening is retiring to some comfortable furniture and listening to some good tunes (oldest son and gf pictured):

 

 

No Urban-dweller's home is complete without her bicycle in the living room, safe from thieves, and parked in front of the music media center. Heee!

 

 

I hope all of my celebrating Voxer friends had a great Thanksgiving, too! The shoestring decorating/rearranging in this little house in the city continues today. Thanks for looking. =)

 

 

 

 

 

I don't even like cats that much (don't ask me how I've wound up with 4 of them) But, I do find them funny as hell, and fascinating to watch. Here's another one that has made the e-mail circuit. There are simply no words for this one, unless one wants to use my son's words, "fuckin retard." 

 

I won't use those words. *ahem*

 

...Scorpy's my handle, here's where I spout.

 

Heee! I'm short and stout for sure, but this is really about my new old teapot. This is a special teapot because it's somewhat collectible and it respresents one of the little things I'm doing to become me again.

 

When I was 18 years old, I loved going to the thrift stores (still do) in search of McCoy pottery. I'm a collector by nature, which makes for a very messy house at times, but it's what I do, left to my own devices. Over my life, I've been that way about everything. Dogs -- when I was heavy into beagles I'd had as many as 27 (counting puppies). I had a fairly extensive doll collection at one time, over 300. Then my second son was born and I needed the bedroom, so the dolls had to be severely thinned out. I was afraid if I set the new baby down in that room I'd never find him again.

 

Through 4 marriages and countless moves, most everything I'd collected had become lost, broken, or inadvertently left behind. Now that I'm older, single, and my kids are all grown up, I've begun to rekindle my love of collecting things. I  decided back in August to visit the thrift stores and maybe surf around on Ebay to see if I could put my old library of books back together (plus some, of course). I've bid on and found almost all that I had before, plus I'm finding new old books and authors whose works are classics, and that I want in my collection. I've had myself a ball nickle mining for these treasures.

 

Back to the pottery.

 

When, at age 19, I decided I'd effed up real good by marrying a Jackass while still in high school, and snuck out like a thief in the night with just the things I could stuff in the car, I had to leave my beloved McCoy pottery behind. I went home to my parents' house and planned to go back for the pottery when he was at work the next day. Didn't work out that way. I woke to find on my parents' front porch, my old humpback steamer chest with all of my McCoy pieces in it, and my cane back rocker. Every precious piece of pottery had been smashed (save one he missed) and he'd put his fist through the cane in the rocker. I gave the rocker to my Mom because I knew Daddy would eventually fix it for her, I kept the chest for my clothes and one little rust-colored McCoy planter that somehow escaped his nasty hand. I didn't have the heart to try and recollect my pottery.

 

Somehow, the orange planter made it with me through 3 more marriages and at least 9 moves, even though I didn't do anything special to preserve it -- it just kinda...went along with me. I still have it. My oldest son made off with the humpback chest when he moved out; it's in the corner of his dining room holding his mementos. Daddy, who passed away in 1995, did indeed fix the rocker for Mom, who kept it until she died in December of 2006. Then the rocker came back to me. During one of my recent hunts on Ebay for a book, I typed into the search field "McCoy pottery" instead. I don't know why; curiosity I suppose. The prices haven't changed much since 1974, but I've officially made my first purchase toward rebuilding my McCoy collection, and I couldn't have been more thrilled when the package arrived today. It was like Christmas! Especially because this piece is tailor-made for my little kitchen/breakfast nook decor: 

 

 

Perfect, don't you think? Here's a better look at the teapot:

 

 

 

And, here's the old-timer who welcomed her into the fold:

 

 

I'm really enjoying this "back to me" stuff.

 

 

...this is the park across the street from my house. My oldest son's house is also across the street from the park; we live around an inside corner from each other. Our houses are 100 paces apart, and we can see each other's house from our front porches. I took these pictures last Saturday (on Grandson's 12th birthday) from both perspectives -- from in front of his house and mine:

 

 

 

 

 

(Taken from my son's, you can see my house in the one above. It's the yellow/brown one with the chimney.)

 

 

 

 

The tree above was huge when I was a little girl 50+ years ago. (I grew up 2 blocks from my current home and played in this very park.)

 

 

From the baseball diamond (above).

 

...and my favorite:

 

 

This is the bike/jogging path they have put in the park within the last 5 years...so I can ride my bike and play in the park at the age of almost 54. Here is my bike; I just bought it. It's the first new bicycle I have owned since I was about 8 years old. I'm so proud of it; when I'm not riding, I keep it in my living room against one wall, lol!

 

 

 

So THAT'S why it doesn't always suck to live in the city. That, and I got my property tax statement in the mail last week. $312.00 for the entire year. Woot!

 

Just got my rah-rah letter from Chris Baty yesterday about this year's National Novel Writing Month. It's almost time to sign up and begin the 30-day scramble to write a book. I did it last year on a last-minute impulse...hell, I had something burning to be put on paper. I finished the book (Ontario Call) but as life would have it, I got so damn busy I never went back to edit it. And it needs editing.

 

So my quandry: Not being one to back down from a challenge, do I scratch my ass for another book premise and dive in? Do I use this 30-day hussle in a different way...pretend I only have 30 days to edit the book I wrote last year?  Or, do I just say "This year I pass?"

 

It would probably be a good thing to try and write another, but one of my recent life decisions has been to streamline my life and cut out those things I do out of a sense of obligation or pressure -- those things which cause me stress, eat up my time, and give me little to no return for my effort. So, I can think of 2 ways writing another novel would be counterproductive to those goals, one of which is to get back to the book I wrote last year.

 

With my difficulty for turning down a challenge, I can just see myself in the next ten years with ten books....all in need of editing. But then, if I live that long I will be retired and able to edit them all. Except the passions for the subject matter will probably all be gone by then. I'll be all "who gives a shit" about them.

 

What to do? What to do?

 

I know this has been around the e-mail circuit a squillion times, but it's another one that never fails to make me laugh to the point of tears. Gotta share it. :)

 

 

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All I can say is that Newfoundland is a breathtakingly beautiful place. Even though I went in late summer, I suspect it is still a feast for the eyes in its winter state. I've always loved to see snow and big water together. I won't waste this post with a lot of words; suffice it to say the trip went well, the people were tops and hospitable, and the cod, moose stew, and rum were marvelous. It did take me a while to catch up to the dialect, but I was a functioning Irish lass by the time I left.

 

Here are some pictures; I hope you enjoy.

 

I will add some photos from points of interest around St. John's and the Bellevue Beagle Club on another post. These were my favorites of the landscape. They say you would need at least a month to get a good look at Newfoundland. I have no doubt this is true. Thank you, Mr. U, for another great experience. I appreciate your friendship.

 

I would be uber-pissed......

 

 

See the post below.

 

The map was so large I had to do it in 2 pieces. Although I'm sure I'll get some magnificent views through the camera lens, it doesn't seem like much of a restful vacation, does it? That seems to be the way my vacations have gone for the last few years, and after this one, my compass will be pointing in a different direction. My friends and neighbors here will understand. This will be the last journey of this kind.

 

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I don't often talk about God on my blog, but regardless of my human failings, He is with me always -- in thought, and hopefully in deed. Today my friend GB remarked about how God must love him because he has the best life possible, and that it really couldn't get any better. He has a good job with the option to retire if he wishes, he has a modest cabin on a few acres he calls home, and he raises green beans and such for fun and consumption. He lives very frugally because he doesn't need much to be happy. One of his trademark comments after a simple pleasure is, "...and it doesn't get any better than that."

GB, you are an inspiration to me, I hope you stick around awhile.

This leads me to the point of this post. My friends and neigbors here have read my tale of woe, the horrible place I was, everything that I lost -- and lost all at once. At the whim of someone else, my world as I knew it ended in a day, 360 degrees around me. For a period of time, each time I thought it couldn't get worse, another log ignited. I later joked that I was ready to change my middle name from Sue to Job. I like to say that I "scrambled like a drowning cat" just to survive...mentally, physically, emotionally, and financially.

And then I managed to sink my claws into dry ground and pull myself out...shaky, wet, and cold...but with hope.

 

I have this tendency (and I don't like this about myself) to dwell on bad things of the past in a "poor me" fashion. Why I won't let these things go is beyond me, but I'm like a damn dog with a bone when it comes to that. And that keeps me from moving forward. It cripples me. And I wonder why me, why did it happen to me? Because I'm really a good person and didn't deserve it, and all that jazz.

I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but today when GB told me that God must really like him to give him such a good life, it hit me. He considers his life and the things in it a gift. And it occurred to me that in my time of woe, I was receiving a gift from God that not many will receive, or recognize it when they do receive it.

 

1 Corinthians 10:13: There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, and will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.

 

So thank you, God, for my suffering. Thank you for my life -- exactly the way it is today. Thank you for loving me enough to show me first-hand that your words are true...something many people only wonder about. What a magnificent gift! We live by faith because we can't always have "proof." But you have given me proof -- it is myself, my indelible spirit, and I am thankful.

I have no regrets.