On Friday I bought myself a bunch of flowers from a proper florist (not a supermarket or a petrol station!) This self indulgent, extravagant behaviour is unheard of round here. I love flowers - I just don't buy them for me.
The flowers I plonk in a vase are usually picked locally, or cobbled together from bits and pieces in our own garden. (I've been known to stick pretty weeds in a jar when the pickings are slim)
Our house looks like a bomb's hit it at the moment.
(here comes a long-winded justification for my floral splurge.
Splurge because that's 45 bucks worth of flowers in that vase!)
(hideous stuff, but I couldn't avoid using it. I tried to convince myself water-based would be fine, but in my heart I'd knew I'd regret taking the easy way out down the track. The 'good angel' won that battle)
takes ages to dry. The bits I'm painting will have four coats by the time I'm finished. 24 hours between coats, that's a lot of me screaming like a banshee at anyone brave/stupid enough to venture into the kitchen!
(even the dog, and he usually gets away with murder because he's so cute)
While I paint and wait (and repeat the process over and over and over again!), the contents of the cupboards that I dumped in piles on every available surface, are tottering dangerously. No-one can find anything. We've been eating cr**. I've been drinking instant coffee. Etc. If you've renovated before, you know what it's like, but no-one put a gun to my head to do this, so I'll stop whinging now.
Anyway back to those flowers. What I've been trying not so eloquently to say is this: as soon as I got home and popped them in a vase I felt happy. Four days have passed and they're still making me happy. I said it with flowers to myself, and it feels good (and I will probably do it again)
Irish Bells - I love them.
(does anyone know if you can get seeds for these here?)
I found this little fellow in an op-shop across the road from the paint shop (I'm always in the paint shop these days, hardly ever in an op-shop). I used to hate stuff like this. In the olden days, I used to think it was (whisper) tacky. I think my taste has matured. Ha-ha!
In Chinese culture cranes represent happiness and a soaring spirit, an appropriate find: I've smashed that tricky cutting-in (thanks Loo), mastered enamel (not a brush stroke in sight!), found some lovely new knobs (thanks Sue), happy days and soaring spirits are just around the corner!
lovely new knob here .