Tuesday, October 11, 2011

31 Days: Letting Go of the 21st Century


I've lived for a time with a fruit-bowl kitchen and a vintage-seed-packet kitchen, but this is my first go-round with the ducks.

My new digs scream 1968. They make me want to feather my hair and go steady with Greg Brady.


I stayed up later than I wanted to last night to make a big batch of crock-pot steel cut oats for my main morning squeeze, Calvin. I thought a 7:1 water to oats ratio seemed a bit high, but the girl crossed her heart and hoped to die, so I didn't argue.

At 6:00 I ran in to check them.

I found a giant crock pot of oatmeal soup.

So I cranked it up to high and went back to bed for 45 minutes.

When I checked again, it had boiled over and slimed my pink counter top.


(The counters almost match the swiney-pink of the bathroom floor.)

I have no garbage disposal here. I have no field to dump woebegotten food in. What's a girl to do?

I took to facebook for answers.

Two (former) friends suggested dumping them in the...I can't even bring myself to say it.

I suspended them from my wall for 48 hours, at which time I will re-assess.




So it seems I have adjustments to make. But I will say, the built-in manual can-opener is a God-send!

It cracked my business up when some of you kindly commented that you can't wait to see me "work my magic" on this place.

The truth is, my magic-maker is on hiatus.

Also, there's only so much you can do with beige walls, beige insulated draperies, beige carpet (except for in the kitchen - the carpet's turquoise in there) and a ban on putting nail-holes in the walls.


Mostly, I'm enjoying the opportunity to just lay low. I'm unpacking a few key items (anything with color), throwing them around, and calling it a day.


Ask me again come February, but for now, I'm finding that I am just immensely grateful for this cozy, temporary home.

It's teaching me new things about myself.


It's wrapping us up a little tighter and reminding me that it really doesn't matter where we hang our hats. As long as we hang them together, we are home.


*For the rest of the Letting Go series, click here.