The bad new is:
I didn’t get around to writing my Friday Ephemera post last week (…did anyone even notice? is this thing on? Bueller?), but I’ve vowed to make it up by making this week’s extra special. Or extra well-written. Or something. Anyway, it’s going to be about a cocktail. Specifically a New Orleans cocktail. One that I may or may not have had a Epicurean orgasm over (I’m married, I can say that) at The Roosevelt Hotel’s swanky Sazerac bar last weekend during a long-overdue girls’ night. But that’s the only hint you get–you have to tune in on Friday to find out what it was.
The good news is:
I’m going to to have a lot more time to do regular postings in the future because as of last weekend, I am officially done with my “day job.” For the first time since I was 15, with only a few brief interruptions, I am not working a full-time service industry job. No retail selling, no coffee slinging, no organic foods shopper cajoling, no more cash registers. From now on, I get to focus on teaching my kids at CFTA, writing, and continuing to turn our hundred-year-old shotgun into a sustainable, food-producing, smartly-decorated homestead. I couldn’t be more excited and I couldn’t be more appreciative of my husband, whose willingness to shoulder all of the financial responsibility for our family makes this possible in the first place. Let the housewifery begin!
As you might expect, coming from such a long stretch of working outside the home, my transition to this new way of life is still in progress. I’m figuring out the new rhythm day by day. Mostly, so far, it’s just been a struggle of trying to shed the mentality that I’m running out of time to do the chores and activities that I used to have to cram into my off days, as well as the vague, nagging feeling that I’m supposed to be somewhere, at a certain time, to do something involving money and temperamental suburbanites.
It’s resulted in a lot of sprinting and then gasping for air…for example, yesterday I did all the household chores that I usually do in a week in under four hours. Why? I couldn’t tell you, other than there was no reason to stop. Then the next day I changed it up a bit and assaulted my house with an art blitzkrieg instead, churning out several unfinished projects that have been sitting in my craft closet for the better part of a year.
It’s nice, this whole free time thing, even if I do tend to spaz out a little and bake seven sweet potato pies in two days.
Whatever. Everyone loves sweet potato pie.
Here’s some pictures of the recent domestic adventures:
Glass shelf that we got for free. Marc’s pipe collection, including his prize Sherlock Holmesian calabash. Superman anthology. Our wedding cake topper–cartoon us on a tall bike. And on the right, signs left for us by travelers who’ve stayed at our house.
DIY wall art–I spray painted some scrap wood plaques (one was the remainder of a shelf that I cut, the other was a really cheesy kitchen decoration with a fat chef or a tomato vine on it or something), and then I mounted the covers of some pretty greeting cards that I picked up from Borders, R.I.P.
One of my favorite spots in the house, our bedroom dresser. The legit, antique cast iron typewriter was Marc’s present to me on our first Christmas together. The faux gas lamp (I wish it were real!) I got at Goodwill for four bucks. And the wreath is what remains of our wedding arch.
I just wanted to show this off while I’m at it. It was one of my favorite wedding gifts, because my dear friend Violet drew it for us and copied down a passage from Isaiah in her gorgeous handwriting. Violet and I started our friendship as penpals, and she would draw doodles like this all over her letter before she sent them.
And now that I’ve gotten to enjoy taking some time out of my day to sit down and write this blog, I’m going to assuage my feelings of free-time panic by scrubbing the bathroom until it twinkles.