Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Farmer of memories
Friday, October 10, 2014
At least they wore helmets.
A few years ago, I set about trying to rebuild my young adult library of books. I've always been a bookworm and a habitual book rereader.
Around the time I became obsessed with horses, I started to devour books on horses, horse care, and such. I read with such ferocity that I truly thought we could put a horse in our small 1/4 acre lot and it would cut down on the time my dad had to now the lawn (a strikingly similar idea in Me and Katie (The Pest)).
A common theme in all these books was that a teenage or preteen girl for some reason or another comes to be the sole owner/trainer of a wild or untrained horse and in a matter of months the horse is perfectly broke, quiet, and jumping.
At the time, I thought this was reality. Now, having ACTUALLY OWNED A HORSE (and become a parent), I'm all, "What the hell?" Who let these girls all alone with a wild horse with no supervision?
But yet, I still reread them and consider them an integral part of my childhood and obsession and love for horses.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Artsy-not-so-fartsy
I'm not happy if I'm not making something. I just refinished a dining room table and I've just set it up and I'm insanely in love with it. It's an ever so slight mint green that matches a hutch I refinished this summer which matches my very first piece of honest to goodness "I'm an adult" furniture purchase of a wine rack.
There's something about that first piece of furniture you buy as an adult. It's a badge of honor. A, "LOOK AT ME, I DIDN'T HAVE TO PUT THIS TOGETHER WITH AN ALLEN WRENCH" status symbol. Since I've now refinished two pieces to match it, it's safe to say the mint green dining room suite is here to stay.
But I'm getting the niggling in the back of the creative part of my mind. You know the feeling. The itchy, buzzy, annoying spark that threatens to engulf you if you don't put it to use. I've got my sights on our bedroom walls. Don't tell my husband, but I'd like to repaint the bedroom a warm taupe-y brown. It's currently an ash grey and I think it's just time I repainted over it. Like everything in Papa B's life when I moved in, I want to erase the poor decorating choices of a single man in his twenties. He joked that he's not sure he recognizes the house anymore. I told him I'm just making it harder for his next wife to come in and not feel my presence and hand on everything.