Saturday, August 3, 2013

Something is Fishy About This! This is how I envision life in our decorator fish pond: Peter, James, and John are fishes of men who came to live in our little garden fish pond. They were adopted last year from Walmart's pond for 38 cents apiece and transported in an elegant plastic bag. As fish go, these guys are pigs. So, today is fish house cleaning day! "Oh! Look!" exclaims Peter. "Here come the monsters again to suck up our leaves and murk and take away our hiding places. RUN! RUN!" "Help me!" cries James, "I don't know HOW to run....I don't have feet!" They race each other down to the bottom and converge for a fishy powwow. Peter murmurs conspiratorically, "That one's the woman, I think. Watch out for her and her fishnet. "Which one?" asks John, "The one with the feathery scales, big nose, and four brown stumpy fins?" (John has no eye for detail.) "No!NO!NO!NO! That's the woman's dog, you Big Dummy!" says Peter. "The woman is there with the fuzzy head, funny pants, and sun visor. She's got her net and we all know what THAT means!" They stare at her with fear with big fish eyes, recalling how Andrew lost his life on such a cleaning day as this. The water had not been warm enough for him. "Look at the big one. He's the husband, I believe," Peter says. "He's dangerous too. That black hose he's waving around almost sucked me up a few months ago. Oh! No! That woman is trying to grab us with her holey net! RUN! RUN!" The woman stops for a moment and removes a preying mantis from the side of the pond and places it gently on the flowers. She admonishes it to "be fruitful and multiply." She then dips into the murky water and without any warning plucks out James. "She's got James! Now what are we gonna do? We're goners!" screams John. "I dunno." groans Peter. "But, we'd better do it fast or we're fish fry tonight. Yeow! The big one is getting way too close for comfort. He may be going for a auto-baptism!" "Yeah! TSUNAMI!" "Now, what are they doing?" yells Peter. Oops! They got me.....blub, blub, blub.....water....cough, cough....I need water.....can't breathe...." "Wait! Don't leave me here all alone. I'm scared!" whimpers John in desperation. "I'll be lonely down here by myself. Who'll play hide-n-seek in the rocks with me now?.....uh I go-o-o-o-o!" he sputters aas he is swiftly dispatched into the waiting bucket of water along with his pals. "Whoa! It's really small in here," says John to Peter and James when he sees them. "At least, I don't see many sharks." Peter assures the other two by saying, "We probably have to stay here until our home pond is ready. Then Fuzzy Head will be back here with her net." They wait. And they wait. In fish time, it seems like eons. Eventually, they are placed back where they live happily

Friday, July 26, 2013

Welcome To Our New Blog

Anastasia and I, want to welcome you. We are housewives, friends, neighbors and related. We love making our homes beautiful and sometimes go overboard. Our projects include complete overhaul decorating of rooms. Making furniture, reupholstering and upcycling anything. We have taken over our husbands barn, garage and attic as our work space. We would like to share all of the fun we have with you.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Black Blob in front of Toilet

Dear Ones,
After you left, I was putting away clean towels. You can imagine my shocked dismay when I noticed an unseemly "blob" in front of ......the toilet. I knew what it was. And I knew that none of you missed the toilet bowl......or anything like that. I recognized immediately WHAT it was. I am so-o-o-o sorry!
Perhaps this letter will make it clear why I was not very interested in beautifully monogrammed anything as were displayed in that gorgeous magazine you showed me.
You see, I live in a pig house with....another pig. Like a fräulein wedded to a potato farmer, I live in mud, dirt, grass clippings, and other sundry drudge-generating messes. I can never aspire to grand living or a pampered lifestyle. My devoted hardworking husband keeps me humble.
Preparing for your arrival, I went over the whole floor of the entire house on my fanny scrubbing more carefully than usual. Upon finishing and beholding the sparkling clean surfaces of my little palace floors, I left the room. My husband followed me in there. (No....he did not poo-poo on the floor.)
What he did do was drag in a heavy ladder with dirty rubber feet, to repaste some ornamental border at the top of a ten-foot wall. Then he left. ........and I, thinking that it was clean, never went back in.....until you folks left to go home.
Anyhoo, it was incumbent on me to insure that he did not leave any messes. As usual I was remiss.
I did not realize that you were planning on leaving me that magazine with the monograms. I live in my own reality and cannot fathom any other. I am sorry for my dismissiveness. I shouldn't have been so abrupt.
Truthfully though, you cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear .....or a garage sale madam's either, for that matter.
I would say without reservation, the nearest I ever came to monogrammed towels in my bathroom was the black blob in front of the toilet.