pillow power!

I love pillow covers. Especially on the couch pillows, because of one very important reason: They're WASHABLE. Protected from hubby's drool after a particularly restful nap, snacks on the couch, cat hair/barf, visiting toddler chocolate fingers, wine spills, or whatever happens to land on them. Decorative pillows are not typically washable and that has always grossed me out. Another perk? Decorative pillows are not EVEN cheap, man. Making new covers is way cheaper than buying new pillows when I feel like a change.

That being said, I've been itching to change out those covers for a while.

The old pillows matched the kitchen curtains, simply because I had enough fabric left over after making curtains. It's not bad, I'm just over it and ready for something new.

Curtains = Pillows

How BARE does the house look in this pic? That was 1 year ago. We've totally filled it full of junk since then.

So tonight I draggged Chris through the fabric aisles at Hobby Lobby and picked out a few new fabrics and demanded that he form an opinion about them. I (we?) picked out a punchy floral, a mint and gold chevron, and a grey chevron-ish pattern. Can't get away from that chevron, can we?

I used this tutorial for making pillow covers and I love it. I always have to check the tutorial to refresh my memory every time I make one, so I've even printed it out in case the website is ever taken down.

In about an hour, I'd covered every random pillow I could hunt down and put them on the couch. It seems I had gathered a mismatched pillow misfit club.

Anyway, now the misfit pillows get semi-coordinated new life! I love crappy night-time lighting and cell phone pictures, don't you?

Also, I'm a real person with a shade-less lamp on the random table behind the couch, beer bottles and my husband's shorts [for some inexplicable reason] on the coffee table, and so much more... FOCUS on the pillows.

I love them. It's amazing how something so small can make such a difference. I also kinda want to add a pop of orange. Back to the store?

In closing,

1. I really think a slipcover for the blue plaid loveseat or a new paint job on the macaroni and cheese bookshelf needs to happen.
2. I kinda want new kitchen curtains now.

When you give
a mouse a cookie  a girl a project...

love is

My hand smelling like gasoline because, well, that's what happens around here sometimes. The odor brings back so many good memories.

Related, this thrilled me today:

Sugar and spice?

Now that the word is out on the streets, I can finally talk about the newest development in Auntie world. That little gummy bear hanging out in my sister's belly is a future niece or nephew!

I am 100% unashamed to say that I hope it's a little girl. Bring on the ruffles! And pink! And dollies and hair bows!

Of course another little rough and tumble sticky slobbery farting little boy making trains out of everything would be just as acceptable, but a girl can hope for ruffles and bows until we know for sure. :o)

in the belfry

Did anyone expect the nocturnal effects of the cat door? That wasn't on my radar when I was excited to install it, giddy at the prospect of no litter box or having to get up in the middle of the night to let the cat out. Ha, pipe dreams.

Sure, the occasional critter was expected. She brings them in fairly regularly. I've woken Chris up to kill big roaches, and we had a lizard live in our bathroom for 3 days, amongst the other random critters she brings in that eventually either disappear or die or get moved back outside. One there was even one of those huge green locust things. We have also been woken up in the wee hours of the morning by more significant animals like a mouse, and most recently, a bat.

Last night I heard a really strange noise around 4am. I woke up, turned on the lamp, and saw what looked like a large moth flying around, hitting the curtain. Chris and I both jumped out of bed to watch it fly into the ceiling fan with the same thud as before, and fall gracefully onto the bed. Okay, the large moth was actually a bat. A freaking bat. In my bedroom. At 4am. On my bed. A bat.

For a moment Chris and I stood on either side of the bed, looking at each other and down at the bat, which seemed to have stunned itself pretty good flying into the fan. It started to move, so I threw the sheet over it. After a few minutes of confused, sleepy debate where I retardedly suggested it came down the chimney, and a reference to Black Sheep, we wrapped it in the bedsheet and tossed it outside. Poor thing gave a feeble attempt to fly before it gave up and sat there on the deck. We changed the bedsheets and went back to sleep while the cat seemed irked that we got rid of her prey.

Gave me the heebie jeebies because there's no way that Pumpkin could catch a healthy bat. What kind of sickness/injury did it have? I mean, it flew right into the ceiling fan. Aren't bats supposed to have an excellent sense of direction?

Also. Rabies!

weight, again.

Remember a few weeks ago when I mentioned that my pants weren't fitting anymore because food is delicious again? AND how I was going to start working out and I actually did for like a week but then my dad visited and chris broke his wrist and life got all discombobulated?

Well, after weeks of squeezing myself into slightly too-tight pants and feeling uncomfortable all the time, I finally had it. I was picking out clothes for work and started trying on pants to pick the least uncomfortable pair when it hit me how ridiculous that was. Especially when I have several pairs one size up sitting on the shelf. Nice ones, too, handed down from Julie last summer that I'm so glad I took even though they didn't fit at the time. Because I tried them on and angels started singing and they were a tiny bit too loose but SO much more comfortable.

My whole plan to keep my weight in check all these years was to always start working out and eat healthier when my clothes got too tight. Simple and effective.
Technically, yes, I'm violating my own terms. But I think after swapping a size zero for a size two I'll be just fine. Besides, my bras are fitting better so that means my boobs got bigger and that's pretty great!

first

I figured out how to blog on my phone.

This weekend I finally felt human again. Things have been so stressful that I felt like I was moving through the motions of my own life without paying any attention.

For the longest time I've felt too tired and worn out to do anything but relax in my free time. For the first time in a long time I've felt the urge to reach out to people. To do things instead of curl up and sleep.

"Her passing made all of us better people."
Those words towards the end of Alana's funeral stuck with me. Because maybe that's where this is coming from-- my motivation to make life about a bit more than it has been. To say yes a bit more and enjoy more things.

Anyway. We saw about 3/4 of Jurassic World before a fire at the movie theater forced us to evacuate. It was at a really intense part of the movie, too!

More rain and flooding is expected next week. Here's hoping it blows over better than the last batch of storms. Something tells me this year will be the year we get the big hurricane we've been due for in the past few years. Of course this year I'm a homeowner so it's a bit more scary to think about. We've been slowly making disaster preparations so we won't have to scramble in the event of a catastrophe, but can you ever really be prepared?

Anyway. Time to get stuff ready for work tomorrow. Even my renewed appreciation for life can't erase that Sunday night dread!

Alana, life

Been thinking about Alana all weekend. I've been carrying her with me since I woke up to read that text message from my sister.

When I woke up both Saturday and Sunday to clean up big thick steamy piles of dog diarrhea and ran outside in my backyard to get some air because I had to puke, I thought of her.

When I was sitting on the couch with a stomachache, also forcing gatorade down my ailing husband's throat, I thought of her.

When I was driving down the road to CVS to pick up stupid expensive prescriptions, pepto, and buttwipes, I noticed that the day was beautiful and sunny and there were white puffy clouds in the sky, and I thought of her.

When we were feeling a little better, and went to the grocery store, and my sweet funny husband placed the cucumber and avocados on the belt in a "non-phallic" arrangement, I thought of her.

When I put a load of laundry in the wash, cleaned the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher, snuggled my husband, I thought of her.

I thought of the shitty things in life, and how insignificant they are compared to how things could be. Life is sweet and I found myself appreciating the small moments with my husband more than I normally would. Even amidst some seriously un-ideal situations.
Because I've been reminded again how fragile and precious life is.

Someone wonderful dies way too soon and the rest of the world moves on and it keeps spinning and people still have to go to work and dinner still needs cooking and the laundry needs washing because you still need clean underwear and Alana's body is lying in a morgue somewhere instead of cooking in her kitchen and kissing her husband and washing her underwear and that's just it and it blows my mind. I'm still not convinced it's real. I keep thinking that I'll wake up and it'll be a mistake or a bad fucking dream. I'm not sure I can stand to see my sister grieving because there's nothing I can do about it.

The party really didn’t start

until she walked in.

She was a vivacious, sassy spirit that brightened up the room. It’s rare to meet someone with such a sweet, kind heart. Someone who always had a quip that would send everyone into hysterics. Someone who unabashedly declared that “these cupcakes are delicious because they’re baked with love.” (My favorite story) She was someone who had a million unique nuances that made her fantastically who she was.

Was.

Alana, my heart hurts for the life that you’re not going to live. For the plans you made that will never happen. For the struggles you went through because the future would be better for it. For the sunshiney days that you will never get to enjoy. And all of the other things about life that you will not get to experience again. Because you’ve been removed from a wonderful life. One that you were poised to spend many years enjoying. Dare I say you’ve been cheated. It’s not fair and that pisses me off. You were taken too soon.

My heart hurts for your husband, who in this experience has seen the world halted, turned upside down, shaken out and smacked around. The grief must be paralyzing.

It hurts for my sister, who lost her best friend and will miss you for a very long time. For Calvin, who won't get to know his Aunt Alana.

It hurts for your family, who lost a piece of themselves.

My heart hurts for myself, because selfishly I will never get to laugh at another one of your off-color jokes or admire your cheeky personality.

Life is worth living because of the other fantastic people in the world that make our lives better. She was one of those people.

It’s not real because it can’t be real. But it is. And we’re all left here dumbfounded, scratching our heads and wondering, “Why?”

The world lost a lot of sparkle when you left it, dear girl. May your sweet, sweet soul rest in peace. You're so loved and will be so missed.

sliver of sunshine

• I got about $40 worth of cheese at Costco this weekend. I need a bigger cheese drawer.
• There is a teeny patch of smooth skin where rash used to be. Either way, dermatologist bright and early tomorrow because teeny patch ain't cutting it.
• Toot's surgery happened and he's on the road to recovery. 
• Paid my speeding ticket today and next is defensive driving.
• I wore actual pants to work all week so far. And jewelry. Tired of feeling/looking like a freak. Fake it till you make it.

Here's to heading uphill from the shitstorm.