Twilight

If you are reading this thinking that it will be about vampires and werewolves, you are barking up the wrong tree. Sorry for deceiving you.

This is about the light in our cottage closet.

I love this light. It has the most gorgeous glass and ironwork. It is from before the turn of the century. I saw it at my favorite antique lighting store and instantly fell in love. I tried to find a place for it somewhere in our light fixture void and came up with the perfect locale, the walk in closet.

However this light, it…it…it…doesn’t give off much light.

However, every time I see it, I sigh and feel romantic.

People that know me might say, especially my husband, that I have a light fixture fetish. It could possibly be less bad than other kinds, right?

Now, as I search for my clothes in the twilight of my very own closet, feeling romantic, I have something to blame mismatched socks on.

Afterall, we all look better in romantic lighting, am I not right?

Out With Old Memories, In With The New?

We've been moving out of the rooms in our house in stages. Mid-stage, we were due to be out of our master bedroom by June 1st. On June 2nd, we were mostly out, I had a few odds and ends left to box up, but it was looking pretty good.

I came home from errands yesterday, and the entire upstairs hallway was boarded off.

Ugh! No fair warning, my contact lenses were still in their container. Dirty towels, shampoo, a full garbage can--it was all in there. To be clear, we are not remodelling the bathroom, so I was not thinking so much about the "crap" in there.

Ohhhhhhh, but I need that crap. Especially my contact lenses and glasses! And of course, a girl needs her concealer!

Our super dooper contractor (this man seriously should be wearing tights and a cape, he's that awesome!) kindly unbolted the wood and peeled back the plastic and let me go in to clean out my essential lotions and potions.

As I finished boxing up I spied this:

Years ago, we had visited Mrs. Grossman's Sticker Factory. These were some of the treats we brought home. As I was working on some project or another on my bedroom floor, I looked up to see that Ruth had decorated the inside of the closet door.

Yes, I am the type of mother that would let her kid's willy nilly creation remain on the inside of the closet door. I often don't have the heart to part with any of my kid's creations, and I simply didn't care or mind that this adorned my closet door.

It will all soon be a memory in a matter of minutes. The banging and clanking has started for the day.

My new memories won't be as colorful and childlike in my new bedroom, I'm sure. I'm also a little bit sad about that...

This is why I may have to, HAVE TO, go back to teaching pre school!