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You are here: Home / housework / “Monday, Tuesday, shorts. . . “

“Monday, Tuesday, shorts. . . “

February 6, 2012 Filed Under: housework

J: Why are you wearing shorts? It’s winter.

Me: The weather has no bearing on the laundry.

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Okay, fine. Her jacket is reversible and we kinda

Okay, fine. Her jacket is reversible and we kinda match. I admit it. Alright? We all knew this was coming. None of this should be a surprise to any of us. #dailyroxydog #huskychihuahua #dogjacket #peoplewhomatchtheirdogs

Just a dog in a puffy jacket that matches her lawn

Just a dog in a puffy jacket that matches her lawn chair. And she likes it! #dailyroxydog #chihuahuamix #ilovemydog

We are in the habit of starting and ending our day

We are in the habit of starting and ending our days side by side in our lawn chairs, while the light rises or dims. It’s still chilly at the outer edges of the day. Sometimes Roxy shivers. I bought her a sweater, but she won’t wear it. Sometimes I try to wrap her in my jacket, but she’s not having that either, so I throw her ball and try to get her run and then she comes back to her chair, warm for a little longer. #dailyroxydog #huskychihuahua #dogssittinginchairs

“I got a secret I should tell. I’m going up to

“I got a secret I should tell. I’m going up to heaven in a split pea shell.” ~ @petermulvey43 Words Too Small to Say

Happy as a dog in a freshly dug nap hole. #dailyro

Happy as a dog in a freshly dug nap hole. #dailyroxydog #huskymixesofinstagram

I saw this little dresser at my favorite magic ant

I saw this little dresser at my favorite magic antique store sometime in November and didn’t buy it. But then, of course, I kept thinking about her. She’s the perfect size for my office, and I found those drawer pulls hilarious. When I finally went back in December, I told myself I was shopping for wall art, because I assumed she would be gone. But she was right where I’d seen her last: balanced on another dresser with boxes of old picture frames and tchotchkes piled on top (the true mark of a magic antique store). I didn’t even realize she had a towel rack — that she was a wash stand, not a dresser — until I asked about the price, said I’d take her, and my favorite magic antique store person asked if we needed to unscrew the towel rack to fit her in my car. I suspect this little sweetie is not from the days of necessary wash stands so much as from a country kitchen in the 80s. She was in rough shape, and not made from wood worth stripping and re-staining, but her price reflected that. I had to disassemble that door and put it back together, but I’d been in the market for some experience working with old furniture, and she made me feel brave about trying. I thought about painting her something more neutral, but I’m so glad I didn’t. She deserves to be pink. She’s not perfectly painted and needs a few touch ups. I learned some things about chalk paint and finishes. The drawers stick a bit. Eventually, I’d like to line them with fabric and when I do, I might plane the edges to smooth things out. But goodness, I love her in a way that I wouldn’t if I hadn’t spent time cleaning away her cobwebs and scrubbing the grime from her hilarious drawer pulls. She’s also become a little shrine for the book I’m working on, which makes me love her even more. I’ve always been a person who sees some soul in certain things, and I’m learning to cherish that idiosyncrasy, because there’s so much joy to be found in a brave little toaster or an underdog wash stand. We’re not here in the world for all that long. We may as well love some bright little things. #furnituremakeover

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