House hunting sucks. I looked at the perfect (well anyway) property yesterday but it's gone already. Wee cabin in front with two story handmade house, very eclectic and unfinished on a 1/3 acre with a horse farm down the road. In Seattle! Trees and garden and whaaaaaaaa. Then my lovely agent took me to Vietnamese lunch and paid for it. So today I'm going to an open house which has a purple bathroom. That's what I need. Although we saw a house yesterday that had the most gawdawful ceiling. Someone decided to take globs of spackle and make twirly meringues in a repeating 'wave' pattern. Rosemary took one look and said 'hell, no'. It must have taken hours. Elsewhere the house had heavily textured walls and a terrible sloppy paint job. And sticky floors. And stucco on the exterior. People, this is not the climate or earthquake zone for stucco. Yech.
The magnolia is opening and I cut back the daphne yesterday. I brought a few blooms in and the whole house smells wonderful.
We're in a bit of a lull, baby-wise but lots of new clients. Our fall will be busy.
Going to Tuscany. Did I say? I still can't believe it. I hope my house situation is settled by then.
Gearing up to submit to a journal that rejected me the first time out but has solicited more work. What did I already send them? No idea. Shite. Not usually so careless.
1 comment:
Isn't it odd how personal taste can be so...personal? Swirly waves on the ceiling? And yet someone thought it was beautiful!
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