Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Sit-a-littler on The Roof

I thought I'd check in and let you know that no, I didn't stop posting because I am an immature passive aggressive tantrum thrower who is upset over my failed attempts to get more readers, even though, let's face it one sure way to get a lot of faithful readers is to stop posting, right?

No, I haven't posted in a while because, well, because I'm being domestic.

I said, I'm being domestic.

This afternoon I have made both strawberry jam and blueberry muffins people. My house is clean, the laundry is caught up and I created a "roof tote" out of one of those reusable totes you buy at the supermarket. This one I bought at the LCBO which in the language of your country is the booze store. There were little compartments just the size to tote your wine bottles - 6 of them, so I cut all but two out so I had room for the little cheese cutting board, knife, opener, crackers, etc., etc. The roof part of the Roof Tote comes from the fact that this bag is used to haul said aforementioned items to the roof where us here city dwellers like to take in nature. Yes, nature is found on the roof.

First there are potted plants. Then there is sky and clouds, real grapes in the wine and also? You get to look over the city and let me tell you something. Nothing stands out like a sore thumb like a bunch of trees all huddled together inbetween blocks and blocks of concrete. Yeah, I found a park while up there the other day. One I now walk through every day. So there you go.

As you know I've been sort of addicted to bringing nature inside too, and so I persuaded Dave to buy us an herb garden for the kitchen. Yes, it is a garden because there are plants and also dirt, so shut up now. It is in a great old looking crock type planter and it really warms up the kitchen and makes the kitchen look like who ever uses this room really knows what she's doing. Um. so yeah.

Anyway, do you ever hear voices in your head?

No - not like crazy people who take hammers to your door, I mean like someones real voice, let's say your friend's voice or in this case, my middle daughter's voice and she's saying just what I know she'd say about whatever I'm doing at the time I happen to hear this voice in my head.

Ok, let's start at the beginning because it's a really good place to start. See, I like to homey-up the place I live in. This means even when I live in a downtown urban condo I like to throw in a bit of old stuff around to warm it up. This stuff usually - ok always includes baskets. I love baskets and have loved them ever since I had a collection of like 150 country living magazines and couldn't afford to copy of the decorating in there except the basket part. But I am picky about my baskets. They can't be just any kind.

Anyway sometimes I hang them up. No, no, no - not crazy like people did back in the day when baskets were new and people couldn't stop hanging them from the walls, the ceilings, around their necks, taped to their heads, etc. I just hang a few here and there and there was this one spot I needed a little basket and all I could hear was my daughter's voice saying "Have you hung any baskets yet?" That totally serious totally sarcastic voice delivered without so much as the beginning of the smallest of cracks that might possibly be a smile when and if it ever grew up.

And I heard her say this as I hung my basket today because I totally know she's going to ask me that question and the answer will be yes, little miss deadpan face I did.


  1. Let me here say that your rooftop makes me want to be just like you. Also, you are charming, beautiful, funny, and a wonderful writer.

  2. Wow! Muffins, baskets, totebags. I was feeling all smug and productive because I didn't make my house any DIRTIER today. Thanks for bursting my bubble.

  3. Can you come clean my house now? Bring some strawberry jam and blueberry muffins too! That'd be awesome!!

    Congrats on being all domestic! I think the baskets look great!


  4. Susan, oh I'm so glad someone does. And thank you for the compliments!!

    JD - Sorry. But you know, maintenance of a clean house is an art too. The self control it takes to resist throwing clothes on the floor, leaving dishes in the sink. Oy!

    Momster - I can come to your house, however I cannot just clean. I must redecorate, reorganize and basically take over your place. Most people don't enjoy this kind of thing...

  5. As long as you don't fuck with my Feng Shui, we're good! Thanks!!



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