Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Danger! Danger! And Some Pretty Stuff, Too

Beware . . .
In your very own home, you could be at risk for serious injury!

For instance, this looks innocent enough, doesn't it?


Looks are deceiving.
This is the sofa in our Parlor, which we ordered with carved paw feet.
Mistake.
We had no idea we would be taking a ruthless homicidal maniac into our innocent nest.

That middle foot, pictured above, sticks out a bit past the edge of the sofa. It's diabolical.

As you pass by, it reaches out its hairy paw and smacks your toe, stubbing it smartly.
For those of us who like to go barefoot, even on the seagrass rug (floor treatment by Torquemada, you just must see his showroom!) which is murder on the soles of your feet . . .

. . . where was I?

Oh yes, for those of us who like to go barefoot, this toe-stubbing routine by this sofa can result in . . . a broken toe.

As I was taking pictures for yesterday's blog post, in the Parlor, you may have heard a blood-curdling shriek; that was me. The sofa (clearly annoyed that I was not snapping his picture, but only using him as a dumping spot for the curtains) had reached out in a fit of pique, and broken my toe.

How one suffers for one's art.

But I managed to travel with Howard anyway into deepest, darkest Pennsylvania to pick up a pine cupboard. I'm not going to tell you how little we paid because you would say, Holy Smokes those people are cheap! Craigslist, of course. And we didn't have to pay extra for the inch-thick dust and spider webs.

A peek:


We're separating the top from the bottom, and what we are doing with it involves paint, butcherblock, the Kitchen Isthmus, muscle and tools, and a partridge in a pear tree. Only not really that last thing. More like, cup hooks and new knobbies.

If you are wondering what the Kitchen Isthmus is, it is our Kitchen's problem child. More here.

And, yes, my toe swelled up big time during the long drive. No pictures.

**********************************************************************************

But it's a fabulous, glorious Spring day here in New Jersey. One of those days that is just flat out a special gift. Howard took a walk around the borders this morning . . . .

The tulips are done for this season.


But coming up in their midst, and in spots all through the borders, are iris. Irises? Iris? What is the plural?
Well, no matter -- they are well and fully in bud, and I can't wait to see them unfurl in all their over-the-t0p Iris-ness.

Peach:
And purple:
The chives are beginning to open their blossoms:
I think it's best not to let them flower; you get more chive leaves that way,
but I love their goofy little blooms. They look like sea urchins.
Right up against the back of That Old House, an old sprawling rose:

This one is slated for complete destruction by the deer, as soon as it blooms.
Poor doomed little buds:
The obligatory grapevine shot. It is doing nicely!

Now, see this slope, below, which runs parallel to our driveway? Our yard ends just before that grass up top, right where the little bush sits. Our neighbor put in a row of stones along the crest this weekend.

You can't see them from here; they are behind the mulch. The rivulet is new.

Then, we got heavy rain.
Notice the channels along our slope now, and the dirt that washed into our grass.
Hmmm . . . how did that happen?

Maybe we will have to send our Attack Elephant up the hill.

Except, he is only 2-inches tall.
But he looks pretty fierce from this angle, doesn't he?


And now I am going to put my foot up again, before it looks like a bowling pin, and watch Howard do something useful while I read P.G. Wodehouse and laugh out loud. -- Cass

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