All My Dreams Are Coming True

Not that long ago I walked into Anthropologie and came face to face with my dream home.  It was a moment.  Back in January I passed up a childlike version at the flea market because, well, let's face it--I'm not the size of a 7 year old anymore.  Secret's out. 

All my life I've been drawn to teepees. Tepees. Tipis. However you want to spell it I'm in.  Or I want to be anyway.  Did you hear that shout from the west late last night?  It was me.  Bedridden and perusing the internets when lo and behold I fell upon the Cowboy Teepee tent.  

ACK! (or whatever sound it was I made) Probably more like *gasp!!*

Taking it to the phone lines I alerted my mom and the Chef to see if either of them would like to come through for me in my hour of need.  We'll see who gets here first.  Or if I have to take matters into my own hands.  

I think I'll set mine up on the deck and toss in those boho pillows from last year

and of course BLANKET!!

I can see me in it now.  

It looks incredibly cat friendly, too.

It has cowboy print!! 

A hearty THANK YOU to Cath Kidston for her creative genius.

My inner 7 year old is feeling the love.

But Mo-om I Don't Want to Wear Pants

Spring.

That glorious time when you pull out the floral prints and wear them with glee.  That time when strolling around in denim shorts is no longer met with the looks of bewilderment you encountered during your weather denial phase in December. That time when maybe you shouldn't have been so eager to jump around in sandals and bare legs over the Easter weekend because the allergy attack you thought you were having despite never having had one of that nature before has actually turned out to be the flu.

Fail.

It was fun while it lasted.

Spring uniform.

~Low Luv Rings, Vanessa Mooney Bracelets, Thrifted Belt, TK Bag~

~Favorite Tucker Blouse, Current/Elliott Shorts, Swedish Hasbeens Shoes~

That's all I've got. Back to bed.

Sanity Used to be a Friend of Mine

I'm going to let you in on a little secret: last week I thought I might lose my mind.

As one of those people who likes to have most of their ducks in a row there are certain things I can live with short term:  the house being a bit of a disaster, the car needing a wash and laundry lingering for three days in the dryer...provided that my work is going smoothly and the tax papers are in order as the time draws near.  Two things to manage. Shouldn't be that difficult. Or something. mumble mumble

Early last week I got a call from the accountant's office reminding me the appointment was a week earlier than I thought.  After dropping one or two cuss bombs and apologizing profusely while the woman laughed wildly on the other end, I proceeded to hang up the telephone and commence wiping my armpits.  In the closet were several bags of papers that needed some of my attention.  As in ALL of it.  Ten months of shoving papers in shopping bags and stuffing them into the closet where you don't have to think about them results in, well, a lot of papers.  Right around that time I began having to deal with a *ahem* difficult work relationship (which I will refrain from speaking about here for obvious reasons), but suffice it to say this person has left me feeling as though they would like to dig a hole and toss me into it.  Being the daughter my parents raised me to be, I took it upon myself to turn myself inside out in order to win the person over.  Because, you know, after having put that useless tactic to rest over a decade ago, it might be worth another shot. Or not.

Friday arrived to find my nerves in a knot and 5 bags of papers breathing down my neck. Despite my best efforts it meant no Good Friday service for me which basically broke my heart and left me feeling like kind of a failure as a Christian.  I mean it's one of the BIG days and I can't even mend the fence with a hater and have the papers organized?  Two things. TWO THINGS. Taking it to the deck I powered through a ton of papers getting a major burn on my neck, only once having to chase a stack of windblown receipts down the back alley in my pajamas. Success.

Cut to scene and there I was Saturday afternoon: two thirds through the papers, hair in a nest, 78 degree sunshine beaming through the window.  I could see the finish line.  'IT'S EASTER WEEKEND!!,' I half screamed-half whined to myself before tossing on a hat and taking it to the beach.

At this time I would like to confirm that the ocean can pull you back from the ledge.  

All it takes is a kid throwing wet sand all over you to bring you back to what really matters in life.  Wind in your hair, butt in the sand, and whatever's left in the Russell Stover's chocolate stash at CVS to help you gas through that last bag of receipts and sail victoriously through to the appointment.

Gap-Fisherman Hat (waaaay old), James Perse-T-shirt, Antik Batik-Belt as Necklace,

Vanessa Mooney-Necklace, Current/Elliott-Shorts, Rainbow-Flip Flops

Mix of Vanessa Mooney and PANYC Bracelets, Low Luv and Handmade Rings. 

aka taking your safety blanket to your happy place and parking it.

Wind in my hair

And after almost two weeks an actual post.  I swear I have things to say and say them out loud, but the cats can't type. Yet.