The Queen B

The B Stands For BRAVE

One option is that I've become brave.

However.

Another option is that I've lost my mind.

It began with that whole Zip Line/Screamer fiasco a few weeks ago...

And now this.

Gaze upon that, my friends.

100 feet of tower terror.

(I have proof.)

Here's the deal.

My mother-in-law, The Princess and I went on a little day trip earlier this week.

We've been waterlogged with ALL THE RAIN for a few weeks and the lovely sunshine just made it too tempting to stay inside.

Apparently, The Princess has missed the sun so much that she felt the need to be closer to it.

She spotted this tower early in our day and asked if we could climb.

I blew her off and said "maybe".

However.

By "maybe", I really meant "surely you'll forget by the time we come back because there's no way in the world I'll climb that dumb tower."

She didn't forget.

This was the cause of my initial concern.  Well.  My initial concern other than the 100 feet.

 

Do you see how rusted the money box thing is?

Does that give you a tiny inkling of how old this dumb tower is?

Here's the cause of my SERIOUSLY MAJOR CONCERN.  Well.  My SERIOUSLY MAJOR CONCERN other than the 100 feet.

 

Read it.  

I'm not kidding. 

Take the time and read it.

I'll wait.

...YOU CAN DECIDE IF YOU WANT TO GO UP?????

Are they for real?

OH MY WORD.

I made The Princess pay with her money.

There's no way I'm using my own money to fund my demise.

(My mother-in-law is a total chicken and went shopping.)

(She's reading this.)

(But I called her a chicken then, too.)

The steps were incredibly OLD AND RICKETY.

I had to, of course, go first so that I'd plummet to my death before The Princess.  

Who me?  Mother of the Year?  Why, thank you!

About half way up, I begged her to stop.

 

 

This is the view from the top.

100 FEET ABOVE THE EARTH.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  It's pretty. 

Look!  It's my chicken mother-in-law!

She's the teensy orange dot coming out of the store.

I'm sure you are wondering about the wasp infestation.

We didn't see any on the way to the top.

Nope.

We saw them on the WAY DOWN.

Like, between me us and the ground.

Flying underneath the rickety, rotted stairs.

We had to dodge zillions of wasps to get to the precious ground.

It was pretty much horrible.

Except for this...

Your Confusion Is Justified

So those of you who are confused by the layout of my house can feel better... Turn right into the doorway that can barely be seen. (thanks for the emails) (And I know it posted twice. Working on that.) (I blame it on Friday)

Well. It's A Start.

I know, I know.  

I am way tardy in the sharing of the house pictures.  

We are almost settled, so I am going to try and get motivated to take pictures...or to recruit a friend who takes better pictures than I do.

Here we go.

(As usual, forgive the photography.)

 

Welcome.  This is my front door.  There is another light on the other side of the door, but I chopped it off with my camera.

See that window?

Guess what room is behind that window?

You'll never believe it.

 

This is what you see when you walk through the front door.

Well.  

Except for the front part that didn't make the shot.

We'll get to that another day.

(If you are super observant, you'll notice the blue tape on my stair wall.  I'm going to be hanging a shelf there eventually.)

Anyway. 

If you turn left through the doorway that you really can't see...

You'll be here.

The stained door goes into the master bedroom.  That door was in my great-grandmother's home.  We stripped it and stained it and were able to use its original hardware.

I love it.

The door on the left is a closet which you'll never see.

The door on the right opens into the powder bath.

Yep.  That window gives you a view right to the potty.

I love the powder bath.

As you tour our home, you'll see lots of wall treatments.  

Is that a phrase?

Is there a better phrase?

You'll also hear a lot about Sarah.

Sarah works for our builder.  She helps you pick out stuff.

Sarah rocks.

I had SO many pictures of what I wanted and Sarah helped me make it happen.

We love Sarah.

Anyway.

The wall treatments helped me create the character of an old farmhouse.  

Did I tell you that was my goal?

It was.

I wanted a new, old farmhouse.

So.

I love this light fixture.  It has a chrome chain.

We used an oil rubbed bronze hardware, but have also some chrome stuff here and there.

I hate putting all my eggs in one basket.

 

 

 

Sarah helped me make great choices on my countertops.  We were really trying to save money, so we went to a remnant sale at a granite place and found this little scrap of loveliness for a steal!

I love these exposed hinges.

 

I love this curtain.

I especially love this curtain rod.

Sarah & I went to Lowe's and had some plumbing pipe thing cut to be our rod.

That is exactly how I wanted this house...silk curtains on a galvanized pipe.  I love it.

 

Can you imagine if this curtain did not exist?

Why hello, Mr. UPS man!

I don't think so.

(P.S.  That big lump in the drive is not a dead cow.  It is a pile of rocks.)

Thanks for visiting my bathroom. 

More to come.

Oh.  If anyone is interested, I'll post paint colors and stuff after I show the rooms.  I repeated most colors A LOT.   Unless you need the info sooner or something.  Then you can email me.  Or.  Maybe you would never use these colors in a million years. Don't email me about that.

Have a lovely weekend.

Catching Up

1.  This is the creepiest Halloween costume I've ever seen.

 

2.  The Princess and I went to Riverdance with Beachy Mimi yesterday.  I mean no disrespect to Irish dancers, but I am concerned that they will suffer some long-term knee joint issues.  I was not aware that knees were made to move in so many different directions. 

Another concern that I have after attending the Riverdance performance is the combination of shoes & socks that my mother is choosing.

 

I do believe that is a hiking sock with her sassy boot.

Please let her know that we, as a group, do not approve.

3.  The King is traveling for work.  He had a really long drive yesterday.  Like, 28 hours.  

At 3 a.m. I received a text that included this picture...

 

I replied to ask if that was his current location.

He confirmed that it was, in fact, his current location.

I then asked if it was open at 3 a.m.

He informed me that it was nature, and nature doesn't close.

Here's The King at Niagara Falls at 3 a.m.

 

So, in case you ever find yourself in the area at 3 a.m. and are wondering if Niagara Falls is open...it is.

4.  I need your opinion on chiropractors.  I know that it is often controversial.  I've never been to one, but think that my spine needs adjusting.  Thoughts?

This Weekend, I Lost My Senses Entirely

There are two words that, when used in combination, have historically struck fear into my soul.

Can you handle it?

Youth Retreat.

Since The Princess is now a part of our church's youth, the King and I are serving as co-co-co-co-leaders. 

The Youth Retreat had been on the schedule for a while.  For the longest, it seemed way off in the future.  The move, etc. had caused it to slip my mind a bit.

But frankly, I'd been dreading the entire event.

I do have to say that it was quite a lot of fun.

The kids were not scary.

The topics of conversation did not cause me to convulse.

I slept well.

(I wore earplugs.)

Then came Day 2...

Day 2 was Adventure Day.

Now y'all know me well enough to know that I am not the biggest fan of the "adventure".

Our day started with a kid or two "falling" into the lake.  

In 38 degree temperature.

One of those kids had one pair of shoes and the other had one pair of underwear.

(Yes.  They were both boys.)

I gave the underwear boy my hair dryer to dry his unmentionables.

He promised that my dryer would not touch his undies.

After lunch, we immediately went to the adventure area.

Our first activity was the zip line.

 

Do you see how high that is?

I mean..really?  Do you see?

The Princess has no fear.

 

Me?  Tons of fear.  I climbed really quickly.  I just didn't think about it.  Until I had to step from the pole to the platform...not so easy.

See how my right hand is attached to something?  It was some teensy piece of metal. I couldn't bring myself to let go of it.  

I asked the fella (who, by the way, said he'd never done the zip line) if he could please, please double check my harness.

The King asked if he could go backwards.  

I was asking how the heck to get off of that thing.  

The King was asking if he could run and jump.

I realized that my options were to either glide down or climb down.

Gliding then became my only option.

I couldn't step off of the platform.  I just couldn't do it.  

So I squatted.  And sort of rolled off.  

Like a semi-somersault.

I'm so grateful that there is not a picture of that roll.

 

That's me.  Gliding.  Without an ounce of grace.

So then the next device of torture was The Screamer.  

Here's the deal.

IT IS CALLED THE SCREAMER.

At the point at which I decided to be a cool, hip, youth leader...my brain quit functioning and The Screamer became a possibility.

Basically, you get pulled way high in the sky...like a million feet...and then you are dropped in a free-falling plunge.

Here's The Princess.

Here she goes...

 

 

Her little arms are pumped in the air in complete ecstasy.

Here's her mom.

 

The King is trying to encourage me.

When I look at this picture, all I can think is "if only".

If only I'd known what I was about to experience.

If only someone had truthfully explained what my body was about to endure.

 

I've spent over 30 years trying to avoid the feeling given by The Screamer.

 

The minute that I began plummeting to earth, I realized the mistake that I'd made.

I couldn't scream.

I think I swallowed my tongue for a second.

It was super quick but also incredibly slow.

It is the reason that I don't do roller coasters.

The reason that I'm terrified of airplanes.

The reason that my legs turn to jello when looking down a stairwell over 2 stories tall.

I don't like adrenaline.

I will never, never, never, NO NOT EVER be experiencing The Screamer again. 

Ever.

Am I clear?

The King was understandably scared to try The Screamer after my HORRIFIC experience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hot shot.

Still No Photos

I almost didn't post because of the immense amount of guilt I feel for not having house pictures.

Y'all.

I have taken dozens of pictures.

They all stink.

Is it my camera?

My lighting?

My skillz?

All of the above?

I don't want to take a photography class.

I don't want to spend a fortune on a camera.

What to do?

Do you like your camera?

Is it easy to use?

Do you like your friend's camera?  Your sister's?  

Is there a camera you are hoping to purchase?

Please share.

Hi. It's Me.

So, um, hello.

How are y'all?

I'm good.

I am almost sorta feeling settled in the new house.

That almost sorta feeling has come after DAYS of not sleeping, trying to get everything put in its place so that life can get back to some sort of normal.

(P.S.  Normal doesn't actually exist.)

I am going to take lots of pictures for you soon.

Like, maybe tomorrow.

Here's what's been going on at The Palace...

*We moved.

*We cleaned the old house. (This, by the way, was not fun.)

*We've been taking care of the kittens.

The kittens' claws are becoming weapons of mass destruction.

*The King had a birthday last Thursday.

*La P had a birthday last Thursday.

She's 6.

(If you are wondering, The King is exactly 30 years older than La P.)

It breaks my heart for her to have had a birthday and not have been with her.

I don't think she even knew it was her birthday, though.

Which also breaks my heart.

*The Princess has a birthday today!!!  

Happy Birthday, Princess!

(She is 12!)

*My mom got married.
 

I've missed catching up with each of you.  

My blog reader thing says 1000+.  My sanity may require that I hit "delete all".  

If something has gone on in your world that I've missed, let me know.  

Seriously.

I need to know.

I just can't wade through 1000+ to find out your news.

Thanks for hanging around.

I mean it.

The Welcome Wagon

Sorry for being absent.

The moving continues.

Actually, it hasn't started.

I should say the packing continues.

Except for I was awakened in the night to the horrific feeling of impending puke.

I've thrown up less than 10 times in my entire life.  Throwing up = Near Death

So I went to the doctor today because my back has been really hurting and I self-diagnosed a kidney infection.

It wasn't. 

I've hurt my back.

I can't imagine how...

So I got a shot.  I'm not supposed to lift anything for a while.

Like that is possible.

Anyway.

We'll be officially moving on Thursday and Friday.  

The builders hauled off the dumpster yesterday.

Guess what we found underneath?

Mmm Hmm.

Just what we need.

3 tiny kittens that have to be bottle fed.

Their mom had ditched them and they were living in tall grass.  We left them there for a bit, but a really bad storm was coming and the workers had not seen the mom all day.  

We couldn't take it.

So here they are...

We're totally knocking out that packing.

Where Did My Groove Go?

It is well documented that I am a dork.

I love to organize things.

Everything in my home has its place.

However.

I am currently having serious deficiencies in the packing department.

We begin moving in 9 days and I'm not making progress.  

I've got some boxes. And packing paper.  And tape.

I just can't get motivated to put my things in the boxes.

It seems kinda pointless to wrap & pack just to move 20 miles.  But it is too far to make a zillion car trips...

Tips?  Hints?  Wanna come pack my house?

Oh The Drama Of The Skunk Stove

Remember my beautiful stove?

Oh, stove.  We could've had such a good life... 

Here's the deal.

The King went crazy and ON HIS OWN selected and purchased a commercial stove for our home.

Yeah, yeah.  It was sweet.

The King let the cabinet maker know that it was a 36" stove.  He let the plumber know what size gas pipe thing was required.  

He said everything else was standard.

He was wrong.

After the cabinets were under construction, a teensy little discovery was made.

THE STOVE WAS A FOOT DEEPER THAN STANDARD.

THE STOVE WAS A FOOT DEEPER THAN THE CABINETS.

Some magic formula that calculates the size of a kitchen walkway and island compared to its location relative to Mars and the size of your stove determined that my island would be 36 inches narrower than I'd planned.

Not to mention the fact that THE STOVE WAS A FOOT DEEPER THAN THE CABINETS.

Can you even imagine how many times I would hit my hip on her corner?

(Have I ever told you how easily I bruise?)

So.  

The beautiful stove still sits in her lovely shrink wrapping on top of the skunk.

If I'd known that she was super deep before cabinet construction, we could have planned around the measurements.

And yes.  I acknowledge that I could have measured it myself. 

But that would not be fun.  Let's go back to blaming The King.

Have I told you that I've never had an island?  

I've always wanted an island.  

I've wanted to bake cookies while the laughing children sit and do their homework and we talk about our day and about how happy we are to have cookies and milk and how excited we are for daddy to come home from work and then he'll walk in to the clean & good smelling house and kiss the kids and kiss me and thank me for baking cookies, and...

The super deep skunk stove was going to take that dream from me.

So now I've got a 30" normal stove.

Nothing fancy.  No red knobs.  Just standard.

But she & I will SO be baking lots of cookies.