Please note: DH stands for Dear Husband. I need a better nickname for him than that for the blog purposes. Suggestions?
DH: “I think you need to use more swear words in your blog, make it more colorful.”
ME: “I can’t do that, my aunt reads this.”
DH was saying something about how nothing that I do really surprises him. After knowing each other for 20 years and being married for 17 years, apparently he is over that.
I said, “Did the fire surprise you?”
DH, “No, not really. It startled me, but it didn’t surprise me.”
Me to my dad, about Thanksgiving, “I haven’t set a turkey on fire yet.”
Dad: “There’s still time.”
Me to my mom: “Before you hear from Aunt C., I have a blog now.”
Mom: “Haven’t you always had a blog?”
Mom: “How is a blog different from email or Facebook?”
Me: “Anyone can see it.”
Another decorating idea that DH seems inclined to thwart (other than my shell bathroom idea which I am sure will grow on him if I keep talking about it): A whole wall of cuckoo clocks. How awesome would that be? I have already told Mom that I want their cuckoo clock in the will. (I don’t think that will be a problem, I think cuckoo clocks are outside of my sis-in-law’s decorating ideas.) I have one cuckoo clock that came from my Grandma’s house, but it doesn’t cuckoo, it play music when you wind it up. And, we can’t have it running because MaryAnne likes to play with the weight, and I don’t want to come home and find the clock on the floor. Or the clock on the floor with the cat under it. It is a very charming clock, with a homey scene behind glass, and this mysterious red and white object, which I think might be a bread oven from my extensive googling.
Cuckoo clock. It also has a heart shaped tick tock. As a child, I remember being fascinated with this clock.
My Uncle N. brought it back from Germany, and he was OK with me having it after Grandma passed away.
See this charming little home scene? Those are postcards pasted onto the back of the windows.
There is a little tiny light bulb in the light fixture that used to light up. Dad tried to fix it and then the Russian clock repair shop that cleaned and repaired the clock tried to fix it. If Dad can’t fix it, nobody can fix it. It was probably because of the assorted grandkids, including me, playing with it, that it doesn’t light up.
The mysterious red and white????? It reminds me of Humpty Dumpty but I don’t think that is what it is.
Bed, cuckoo clock, chair.
Table and chairs and fiddle and bad reflection from our light fixture.
I started it up when I was taking pictures. MaryAnne was IMMEDIATELY VERY interested. Sigh. Guess I won’t be running that until she is more middle-aged. This is her, looking at it intently.