Nesting and rearranging

For a while now, I've had this unsettled feeling at home. You know, the sort of feeling where you wander from room to room, with an itch to do "something," but you don't know what that something is? Well, my something turned out to be a slight rearrangement of furniture in the living areas of the house, allowing for not one, but TWO trips to Ikea in a single day. I'm quite proud that on the first trip, I managed to wrangle an entire Expedit shelving unit into my car all by myself, got it home and into the house all by myself (not without falling up my back steps and tearing a brand new pair of shorts open from hip to thigh), and then assembled, placed and loaded the fucker, again, all by myself. (Spouse had banned further Ikea furniture from the house, but I overruled him, because all other options cost roughly four times what this cost.) So, I feel a little more settled. (Am I the only person who walks by new pieces of furniture a million times and admires my own handiwork?)

Squirt Approves of New Furniture


On the second trip, we got a chair for the living room. I had always felt a little barbaric in our living room...we had only a couch and a recliner. The layout was not "conversational." If you visited me, it was like coming to the movie theater...you could sit and look at my TV, which is an arguably awesome 52 inch HDTV, but that's not why you came over, right? You came to chat with me about how cool my pets are, or what an old codger my husband has become (ask me how many times he called the police to report noise violations recently)! Now we can do this face to face, you seated across the room from me. It is, sadly, very exciting. There were other accessories purchased, a drawer knife rack (no more knife block taking up space on my counters!), some pillow covers (matchy matchy!), some throw blankets (more matchy matchy!).

So, here are two Ikea related observations. I got there so early on Saturday, the store wasn't actually opened yet, and I had to kill time in their restaurant. They give out free coffee in the morning. And (here is the observation), it is tasty! In fact, it is so tasty that I will actually make a point to get a cup on future visits. Secondly, you know who I would like to meet? The guy who has the job of "undesigning" the furniture, so that it fits into flat boxes. Because this chair here...



...it was in a flat box. And that just blows my fucking mind.

Nostalgia

For reasons that shall remain unspoken at the moment, I've been feeling rather nostalgic about my house. I decided to scan some photos in from my collection. (God, I love that everything is digital now. Scanning photos is a pain in the ass.)

The spouse and I, before we were spouses, bought this house in 1999. I was 22, just out of college, and had my first "real" job (which sucked, but it paid the bills). It was a huge move for us. We had lived in a series of apartments for three years together.

This is settlement/moving day, October 29, 1999 (we drove to the settlement with a loaded truck). We look so young and innocent. This photo was taken right after Colin tried to break my foot off with my gigantic desk as we moved it upstairs.



We got the place for a song from the children of the deceased original owners. The original owners purchased it from the builder in 1951. Then they decorated it. 48 years later, when we took possession, it appeared that they hadn't changed a thing. Take a look. I can attest to the fact that there were two layers of identical wallpaper on the walls. Within two days of moving in, I had it all torn off.







This is the world's worst kitchen. I lived with this until we remodeled it in 2003. By that time, I was feeling like quite the culinary martyr. You haven't baked cookies until you've done it in a kitchen with ZERO counter space and a crappy, leaky oven.





Soon after we moved in, we got this guy, Bones. He's subsequently been through all of our renovation projects. He's such a trooper. Notice that he was allowed on the furniture initially. That eventually changed. No pets on the furniture now (except during loud thunderstorms, when I become sympathetic to my big furry wussies.)



We did a bunch of cosmetic improvements on the first floor, and then decided that Bones was lonely (he actually wasn't lonely, he was just aloof). In early 2000, we adopted Ollie. Here, you can see some of the changes we made to the house. I was going through some sort of weird "country" phase, as you'll notice from the color scheme/decor. You can also see my oldest nephew (who is now 11) attempting to eat his own foot, just like the dog beside him.



After another year, our third baby joined us. Squirt. She has now become the leader of the pack, the bitch of all bitches. When she first arrived, though, she was this adorable. I made her wear the leash at all times so that I could get her outside to pee in seconds. She didn't come by her name innocently.



Then, in 2003, we redid the kitchen. We tore out the dining room, and made it into a nice, large space. It's a different color now, because we are insane, and have repainted a bunch of times since then, but the layout is the same. It is awesome. Colin did all of the work himself in the span of 5 weeks. I hid in the basement with the dogs, leaving only to retrieve dinner from various take out locales in the area.





I have to search around for some of the photos of other improvements we've made. We've upgraded the main bathroom, added a second bathroom in our basement, finished said basement, redid all of the bedrooms, and once more, repainted the living room. The house is truly livable now.