So tell me.
How do you really feel about claw foot tubs?
I'm thinking The Palace Relocation Committee is a pretty good thing...I give you a decision that needs to be made and 99% of you tell me that what I was thinking is a horrendous idea.
I love it.
It may not be so very much fun for you, but it is quite terrific for me.
And it is my blog.
In other news:
No news on Maria.
It is SO hard to wait.
I know that we have to be patient. I really, really do know that.
I think this particular decision (whether or not she is adoptable) will be the toughest. Once I know that she will be ours, I can rest in God's timing and wait.
Oh, I know that this part is in God's timing, too. I'm just so scared to put my heart all the way in, you know?
If you think about it, pray for the judge's heart...that we will catch him on a good day and that he will look at what is best for Maria.
Also.
I've narrowed her bloggy name down to Lady M or La Princessa.
(I know y'all don't know The Princess' name, but it starts with an M, too!)
(Couldn't have planned it better!!)
I'm leaning toward La Princessa. Equality rocks.
I'm off to my great-grandmother's house to look at her doors and light fixtures. I want an old door for my pantry. Having it come from her house would be so special.
Though Nannie left me with a warning last night...I am going to have to watch where I step because apparently the floor has rotted in spots.
So tune in Monday to see if I break my leg (or, more likely, in how many places).
*UPDATED* Nannie's floor is not rotted. She cannot have you thinking that her floor is rotted. It is her mother's house. Nobody lives there. It has been empty for a few years. The end.
