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Allison Larkin

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You are here: Home / Mrs. Gnome / Walking on, Walking on Broken Glass. . .

Walking on, Walking on Broken Glass. . .

November 23, 2009 Filed Under: Mrs. Gnome, The Crap Garden, who are the people in your neighborhood

We are saying goodbye the horrendous green monstrosity of a bathroom we have coped with for the past six years.

The bathtub, sink, and toilet were all green. But they were all different greens. The sink and tub were slightly different shades of mint chocolate chip ice cream green (minus the chocolate chips) and the toilet was closer to avocado. The painted part of the walls – yet another shade of green, and the floor tiles – oh, you guessed it, several varying shades of green. But then, there was the wall tile. . . oh, the wall tile . . . all around the room, and it was . . . MAUVE. Not the kitschy 50’s pink that often got paired with a pastel shade of green. That we could play with. This was dusky, dated, ugly mauve – that lost space between kitsch and neutral that makes you dream of sledgehammers. And, were it not bad enough, there was a mirror that took up most of one wall, so all of that color madness echoed.

We lived with paint chips taped to our walls for YEARS, because there was no way you could walk into that bathroom and decide on a new paint color. All the permanent fixtures were so offensive that there wasn’t a good choice. Even white would have been obnoxious.

To add insult to injury, while the bathtub looked like it was a perfectly normal size, it wasn’t. I am about as average as you can get. I’m 5’6″ and my clothes are always mediums, but when I tried to take a bath in that tub I felt like an Amazon woman. My knees stuck out and the water level couldn’t get deep enough to stay warm for more than 2 minutes anyway. We will never again buy a house without first sitting in the bathtub.

And no, I didn’t take before pictures (just the above ‘during’ shot), because I don’t want to remember the way it looked. I just want to move on.

Do you like how I’m writing all of this in past tense, like it’s all gone already and replaced with something better? Like we didn’t just put some holes in the walls and make the bathroom unusable and then realize it was harder than we thought and it was best to regroup and figure things out? Like I didn’t spend the entire night trying to convince myself that I did not have to pee, so I wouldn’t have to walk down the dark stairs to the creepy basement bathroom in the middle of the night by myself, because my faithful canine companions were too busy snoring to lead the way and protect me from basement spiders, or wall squirrels (there was an incident, but we are hoping it was just a case of sound echoing from outside critters, not an inside critter the size of a house cat).

So, we’ve got some good holes in the walls. We’ve got enough broken tile chips on the floor so it’s not reasonable to walk in there just to use the facilities and risk tracking little fragments everywhere. But the mirror is gone, so at least there’s no reflection of our haphazard destruction. We’re trying to save as much as we can to donate, and the mirror was going to be a part of that, but it cracked coming off the wall, and as much as I would have liked to find a way to recycle it, I also didn’t want to risk it breaking further while we were storing it, because glass shards and dog paws are not a good mix, so J hauled it out to the curb last night for the trash pickup.

This morning, when J took the dogs out, Stella barked like crazy. J said he heard loud, crashing noises coming from The Crap Garden. When he brought the dogs back in, he looked out the window to see Mrs. Gnome wheeling half the broken mirror down the sidewalk on a small metal luggage cart. She leaned it against our garbage can and dragged her cart back to The Crap Garden.

I’m not sure I want to know why she felt the need to break glass in her backyard, what she plans to do with broken mirror shards, or why she only wanted half of what was left of the mirror and not the whole thing. How does one decide how much crap is needed in The Crap Garden? Half the broken mirror was just right, but the whole thing would have just been overkill? I guess I can’t pretend to understand her vision. Nor can I pretend to understand why our down-the-street-neighbor was in the front yard in his underwear in 40 degree weather last Wednesday afternoon.

I’ll put my respirator and goggles on today and chip away at the tiles in the bathroom, but no matter how much I temper the crazy inside, it will still be lurking out there . . . Although, I just posted a picture of myself in a respirator on the internet. Am I becoming one of them?

7 Comments

Comments

  1. The Modern Gal says

    November 23, 2009 at 8:37 pm

    Ha ha ha ha. Who needs a dumpster when you have Mrs. Gnome?

    Reply
  2. Kyla Roma says

    November 23, 2009 at 10:57 pm

    lol! That mask makes me think that you approach your renos with an entirely other level of seriousness than I do- you’re hardcore!

    I had a little Meta-Blogging moment while reading this though, was the green by any chance the same colour as your blog background? =)

    Reply
  3. Corinne Bowen says

    November 23, 2009 at 11:31 pm

    I really hope that the Crap Garden and Mrs. Gnome make it into one of your future books:)

    Reply
  4. Kate says

    November 24, 2009 at 12:41 am

    There’s bad things in the basement at night. You’re right. I’d rather pee outside than go in the basement at night.

    Reply
  5. Reluctant Blogger says

    November 28, 2009 at 2:04 pm

    haha yeah there’s no hope for you, really.

    I had to rip the green bathroom in our old house out straight away. I think it was called “olive” but I couldn’t bear getting into the bath cos it made the water look green. Yuck.

    Reply
  6. WendyCinNYC says

    November 30, 2009 at 4:32 pm

    Ha! You look awesome.

    Reply
  7. courtney says

    December 1, 2009 at 12:59 am

    I think that should be the author photo for your next book. :)

    When you get around to removing all the green and mauve tile, just throw it into the Crap Garden! Nothing goes with broken glass like old green tiles.

    Reply

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Allison Larkin

allielarkinwrites

Internationally bestselling author of three novels as Allie Larkin and THE PEOPLE WE KEEP. Look for HOME OF THE AMERICAN CIRCUS @gallerybooks May 2025

“Larkin abandons the typical story arc in favor “Larkin abandons the typical story arc in favor of a more naturally flowing up-and-down journey that basks in beautiful moments like a slice-of-life story. Whether it’s banter at the bar Freya’s working or a leaking roof that is simply one more thing than she can possibly handle right now, the characters and their experiences are so real and pure that their joys and sorrows are amplified tenfold.” 

So honored by this AP review of Home of the American Circus! 

https://apnews.com/article/home-american-circus-allison-larkin-book-review-79ea3d1fdb69ef16232a8dfb7d148ad6

#homeoftheamericancircus #booksbooksbooks
I’ve seen a bunch of references to Home of the A I’ve seen a bunch of references to Home of the American Circus as my second novel. It’s actually my 5th! Before The People We Keep, under the name Allie Larkin, I wrote three books: Stay, Why Can’t I Be You, and Swimming for Sunlight. Here they are in their various editions with some of their translations! (And @justjuliawhelan also narrated Stay and Why Can’t I Be You, if you’d like to listen!)

Fun fact: That gorgeous dog on the hardcover of Stay was actually our dog Argo, and I took that photo of him when @duttonbooks couldn’t find the perfect photo of a black German Shepherd. #booksbooksbooks #bookstagram
Pub Day Part One. The thing is, it’s really hard Pub Day Part One. The thing is, it’s really hard to be a creative person in the world, and the blessing, the salvation, the joy of it is the community around art: the writers who will call an emergency novel Zoom meeting when you’re stuck on a draft, the ones who roll up their sleeves and make sure your words are saying what you intend to say, the one who writes an interview to promote your book in the local paper, the reader who captures pictures of the event and makes a reel, the bookstore saints who plan a meal based on the story and serve blue and yellow cupcakes and sing happy birthday to your book on launch day, the readers who show up and get books signed and ask great questions and tell stories about their lives. That’s book magic. And thanks to @townecenterbks (especially Judy and Stacey although I know there are bookstore saints behind the scenes too) and @reneewritesnovels and @woolfmania and @cassandra.a.dunn and @lindalattelessons @aneedleinmybookstack and everyone who showed up to Read it and Eat, I will never ever forget the pub day for Home of the American Circus. You all made it so special. Thank you! I love you. I’m so grateful to be part of the community of writers and readers. ❤️🐘
@deborahblakeauthor RIGHT BACK AT YOU! ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I will be back on Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I will be back on the grid tomorrow! I love you all so much and I’m so grateful for your support! 😘😘😘 #homeoftheamericancircus
Well, here we are on the eve of Pub Day for Home o Well, here we are on the eve of Pub Day for Home of the American Circus! 

You know that classic bit of writing advice about how you’re supposed to write the book that scares you? Well, for a long time the thought of actually writing and sharing Home of the American Circus scared the heck out of me. I spent many many years collecting ideas for this book, terrified by the thought of how deep I’d have to dig to tell this story the right way. The book is firmly fiction, and the characters are all my imaginary friends, but the setting and themes are literally and figuratively close to home for me. Freya’s story isn’t mine, we have different life events and demographics, but I understand her sense of grief and loss and floundering and hope on a cellular level. And of all the characters I’ve ever written, the way her mind works is the closest to how I think and feel. It takes place in the town where I grew up. And I think when you read this book, you won’t know my life story, but you will know the tenor of my heart. I grew up as a kid with undiagnosed ADHD in a place where I didn’t fit, frantically trying to look normal, believing it was the only way anyone would love me. Always falling short, terrified of failure. And then in my early twenties, I dropped out of college and worked at a biker bar and made such a huge mess of my life that I was forced to build myself up again brick by brick—this time knowing that failure isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person. That as long as you can find the strength to try again in one way or another, falling flat on your face is not the end of the world. And I learned that the only way to truly feel loved is to be yourself and see who’s up for loving you in your natural form. The people I keep taught me that. And even though it scared me, this was a book I needed to write, it’s the work I’m most proud of, with characters I love the most. So sharing it doesn’t feel like the end of the world at all. Just the end of the world where I have not shared this novel set in ny hometown with a character who has a heart like mine. #misheardlyrics #rem #homeoftheamericancircus #awkwardguitar #itstheendoftheworldasweknowitandifeelfine
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