Okay, here's the deal with Pinterest.

I finally put my finger on the justification for all the obession of Pinterest.  Besides being a big bowl of candy for visual folk, it is a big book of tear sheets.  Seriously, for those of us who have piles and piles of pages ripped out of magazines we want to keep for ideas and/or inspiration.  All neatly ordered by color or subject or whatever you want.

I'd seen this on facebook but found it on Pinterest so I could save it to my "I Want It".  And by I Want It I mean that it's inspiration for a future home, not that Paul would go for this or, for that matter, most of the items in that category! 

And for a good laugh, appropriate or inappropriate.  I prefer, well, we all know. 

I remember this one from the book Rolling Homes.  My sister converted a school bus into a rolling home from this inspiration.  When this photo came up on Pinterest a woman commented that she remembered the photo from a book when she was little.  I was tickled that I could be the one who could remind her what the name of the book was.  BTW, you can't find that book now for under $50; it's out of print and a collectors item.

Self explanatory.

One of mine.  I love clocks.

I never outgrew dolls and doll houses.  The child in me is still alive and well.

This one is for real.  Seriously, this is my dream home.  I was describing this one night while we were out with friends for dinner.  I said that with Paul having been so unhappy with his job for, umm, 13 of the last 15 years, he should retire and we move to San Miguel de Allende and build this.  A friend, Mike, told Paul, "Good luck with that downsized $800,000 tree house".  He's probably right but a girl can dream.

Intervention on isle...she's on the move...hurry Lance!!!!

Okay, I'm an artist and have a shop where I need to sell items other than just my art in order to make huge amounts of money (ha!).  Most of the 15 other women in our co-op shop at garage or estate sales.  I don't like to do that because it makes me feel much the same way I do when I buy a lottery ticket; I get real jacked up about what's next-anxious about what I might find but, of course, don't.  Some shop at actual other retail stores and flip items; something I won't do because I'd would be mortified if someone recognized that I did that.  Not that there's anything wrong with it.  I will do thrift shops though.  And the first rule for dealers is DON'T BUY YOUR OWN SHIT.  After, in my case, 12 years, you would be surprised how many times you look at an item and wonder if you had donated it.  I have actually gotten home with something I'd bought then realized I had donated it and just purchases it again.  I went to a new place last week and had that deja vu feeling but I think I did okay.  However, the last few months, as y'all know, have been, mmm, rough.  I've still been purchasing (I've improved a lot the last few years) but, the kicker is, I haven't been doing well about unpacking and "doing" when I get the items home.  Just this last week and, especially the last few days, I've had a boost (knock wood) and am starting to follow through on the soooo many things I need to do.  Above is just the first piece I pulled out Sunday that I got while in New York.  I got some great things from Wendy (another post coming) that I haven't even waded through to but, on the right, is a Jill Scwartz collage that I picked up at a great little shop (Chaos) I spied through the taxi window while Matt and I were on our way somewhere else then walked back to.  I'd seen the cutest top in the window I thought I had to have. $400.  Right.  But, while trying to escape the focused saleswoman, I saw several fun things on some shelves in the back and grabbed three things.  Ha!, it was the clearance area.  I didn't remember that the collage was one of JS's until I unpacked it (I was wearing one of her necklaces when I bought it!).  Isn't it cute?  The book?  Well, that's a vintage Jell-o recipe book of Paul's mom's that I found while moving things around in our small guest room this morning which I thought looked good with the colors in the collage.  So more to come, as per use...

Ma'am, do you have a tuba on your front porch?

How many times have we heard that; can I get an Amen?  I've been a wife and/or mother for 32+ years now-that's a lot of cooking if your men aren't cookers.  And they aren't.  Two husbands, three sons, two fathers-in-law-no happy cookers.  So, a couple of years ago I made a stand.  I no longer found thinking of appealing meals, gathering recipes, making a list, driving to the grocery store, spending an hour going through picking up the items, going to the check out and transferring the items onto the belt, then (if I haven't used self-check and bagged my own things) transferring the bags back into the cart, transferring the bags into the car, driving home, carrying the bags inside and putting them all away, then cooking, which I lost complete interest in about 30 years ago, interesting.  And I have some picky eaters and they all have different desires.  And, they often call audibles after the meal is made or feel the need to enhance what I've done.  They can't figure out why it pisses me off.  I'm of the mind that there are the two classic choices-take it or leave it.  The one who makes the "bacon" to buy the bacon is one of the worst offenders.  A product of the fifties, when it comes to anything other than sex, he wants me to be his mother-ugh.  Uh ha, ya, then I want to have sex.  Soooo, this stand I made?  I'm having the groceries delivered.  Paul is dying (mmm...) to crunch the numbers on the price of this form of grocery shopping but not badly enough to actually do the experiment himself so, until that day comes, I have most of my groceries delivered.  Not only does it save time and gas but I have lots of time to go over recipes and several hours to add items that I've forgotten which, of course, occurs several times during the process.  It also keeps me from grabbing those Twinkies or cookie dough roll that might catch my eye while in the store.  I do purchase a lot of things from Target since they expanded into full grocery store mode a while back; they are cheaper and I don't mind going there so much.  See, where we live (a planned community-don't get me started) they hide such unattractive places like gas stations and food stores so one must drive far to get to these places whereas Target was built after Mr. Rouse lost control and it's near us.  A Wegman's is being built and will open down the road in June.  It's like Harrod's without the clothing or huge prices.  It's a gourmet grocery store; mood lighting, all the different kinds of food that you have to scramble all over town to get but in one place.  Great health food section.  Peapod no more when W's opens.  Anyway...the tuba...last week after I ordered my groceries, I did it so late that I had the 4:30-9:30 time slot.  We always get the last delivery when I do this.  I had to pick up Matt and his buddy from the mall (Friday night) when I saw the guy turn onto our street.  Only Justin and "Woof Woof Woof Woof, you get it" were home so I stopped the guy to tell him just to drop the stuff on the porch and not ring the doorbell because Justin was ill and Boh would scare the crap outta him.  I signed the paperwork and drove away.  He was at the end of our not-that-long block.  TEN MINUTES LATER he called me back.  I felt terrible.  We had a new front porch installed a couple of months ago and I can't seem to remember to put new numbers on the house.  And we share a driveway with our neighbors whose house is turned ever so slightly enough that you can't read their house numbers, so...my cell phone rings TEN MINUTES LATER and the guy says, "Ma'am, do you have a tuba on your front porch?".  I sheepishly said yes and apologized profusely for not having house numbers (and it was dark anyway).  Matt wondered why he didn't mention the sink in the front flowerbed...