Spring!

A couple of weekends ago we went down to South Alabama and stayed with Dr P's sweet mama in the house where Dr P grew up.

This tree greeted us when we pulled into the driveway. I was informed that it's been blooming since before Christmas.



Yes, since BEFORE Christmas. And that's when I shifted straight into tourist mode and snapped photo after photo of this mysterious tree that started blooming before Christmas.

We northerners are not familiar with such anomalies. I'll bet the trees in Chicago still look like Skeletor.

Two days ago, when La and I were walking home from school I noticed bright coral blooms on the side of the street. I pointed them out to La and she ran toward them like a child who is about to ransack a newly budding tree.

And just when I came to that realization and yelled, "DO NOT PICK THAT FLOW......errrrr," she done gone picked the dern thing.



Whoopsies!



But it was pretty mama! And I have marker on my face.



... And it smells so nice.



Just don't do it again you little flower snatcher!

And then we walked home, right past this lovely magnolia (that's a magnolia, right?) in our neighbor Ruth's yard.



(Ruth is 102 years old. Her little sister is 100 and flies in from North Carolina to visit from time to time. Ruth still cuts her own grass and rakes her own leaves and hangs hearts all over her front door for Valentine's Day and wears polyester pants while doing all of those things. She's a neat gal!)

The daffodils are popping up in our back yard and our Dogwood has little buds all over it. I guess it's officially spring in Alabama. I can't remember a day in the past two weeks where it didn't get up around 70 degrees.

Man, I'm really starting like it here.

On Planning a Wedding

Well. According to my Wedding Planning book (which I have only opened twice and have, on both occasions, promptly slammed shut in desperation upon skimming the first page), I should be in "crunch mode" right now. We have about eight months to get our everything together for our wedding. According to the book, at about ten months before the wedding (um, TWO MONTHS AGO), we need to book a venue, an officiant, a caterer, a florist, a band, and a photographer .... and I need to find a dress.

We have done none of the above.

But we do have a photographer that we want to book, and we're pretty sure we found the perfect reception site. We just have to make both official.

Whew.

And I am thiiiiis close to sealing the deal on a gown.

As far as the dress goes, the problem is—as one bridal boutique owner stated to me over the phone—that I seem to have champagne taste on a beer budget.

Two weeks ago when my mom was in town, we went to a bridal consignment shop and the only (pre-owned) dress that I sort of liked was by Monique Lhuillier and was the wrong style, wrong size, and would need to be dramatically altered to suit my taste and measurements. Meaning with extensive alterations added to the ridiculous price of the gown, I would have had to sell my car to afford it.

When my sister got into town a few days later, she, my mom, La and I went to two more stores. One was a bridal boutique that had reviews saying that gowns were "affordable." When we got there, we saw exactly why. They felt and looked cheap and tacky. The next store was another consignment shop, and all the dresses were pricey and hideous.

Here's a lovely gem of a gown that was originally priced at $5,000 and had dropped in price over the past year to a meager $1,500.



Good Heavens. Is that thing ugly, or what!

I just had to try it on because, well, you just never know from looking at it on the hanger ... right?

The four of us had quite a laugh when I pulled this number on. Especially when we realized that every time I moved my arms in an upward motion, a "wardrobe malfunction" akin to the Janet Jackson Super Bowl debacle would present itself.

And we aren't having THAT kind of wedding.

I texted Dr P the above photo from the dressing room with the words, "I found THE ONE!" ...  There was a delay in the response and then I got a "That's great! You look gorgeous!" ... And then I realized that he thought I was serious. When I saw him later that day I was like, "Man, wasn't that dress I sent you so awful?" And he was all, "OH THANK GOD YOU'RE NOT WEARING THAT GROSS THING. And what were those weird metal triangles on your boobs?"

I love messing with him.

So I've come to the conclusion that if I want a designer dress (and I do!), it will have to be one that another bride has already worn. And I'm okay with that. My house is full of antiques that have previously been someone else's. My engagement ring is an estate piece. I like stuff that's been previously used and loved! And it doesn't hurt that in the case of bridal gowns, the previously owned versions go for about 60% cheaper.

I've been scouring websites like Once Wed and PreOwnedWeddingDresses.com for weeks now, and I'm pretty sure I've found the PERFECT dress. No, I've never tried it on. And yes, my hip measurement is 1.5 inches larger than the seller's. But all of our other measurements are the same, including height ... So it's all good. Right? Gosh, I hope so!

Either way, it's set to be shipped from the UK on Thursday, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Pizza Love

What's better than making heart-shaped pizzas with my two sweeties on Valentine's Day?

I can't think of a single thing.







La and Dr P, thank you for making this year's Valentine's Day the best one yet.

Stancky Cow

The other night La's school hosted a Fine Arts Night, which was essentially an open house where parents could walk around and look at artwork that the students created. La has been talking for weeks about her "Crazy Cow" that she worked on for three whole art periods. She enthusiastically explained to us that her art teacher had praised her Crazy Cow in front of her whole entire class.

Naturally, we were very excited to see her work. And we weren't disappointed.



Yes, indeed. That is one crazy cow. Complete with udders and knee caps.

But, as we meandered through the hallways and down the first grade corridor, we discovered La's true pièce de résistance.



Translation:

My stankcy
cow does not
take baths
and birds
poop on he.
Why is she so
stancky!

Poor, poor, long-legged, gender-changing, stancky cow. I can't wait to bring you home and hang you on my fridge.

The Chair

A couple of weeks ago, my mom emailed me describing a mid-century chair in need of some TLC, that she found in a garage at a brokers' open house. She asked me if I wanted it. It sounded adorable and our furniture was sparse at the time, so I said, "heck yes!" She asked the owner if she could buy it from him, and he told her he would charge only $20 and that the money would be donated to the local church. And if y'all know Granny Lin at all, you'll know that that was all she needed to hear to shout, "AMEN! I'll TAKE IT!"

Two days later, she drove from Cleveland, Ohio to Birmingham, Alabama with this bad boy stuffed in her back seat.



Wasn't that nice of her? It's, um ... bright! But cute too.

I kind of liked the punchy yellow color, but the fabric was crushed velour or something equally horrible. The chair was also dirty and there was a big rip along one side. But the shape and style of the piece couldn't have been more perfect.

My mom, La and I set out a couple of days later in search of a fabric to transform this cute little chair. We pulled up to a shop called King Cotton, which is only about two miles from my house and was highly recommended by Dr P's mama. The store was a haven of gorgeous fabrics. They had everything. I could have spent the entire day in that store, but unfortunately La was with us and was all kinds of thirsty/hungry/needy/sassy. And you know how that goes.

I was looking for a printed fabric with different grays and a slight punch of that punchy yellow. We found the perfect one within minutes, and they had it in stock.



The chair was reupholstered right down the street at our local Antique Shop. I absolutely LOVE this store, you guys. And Ricardo, the upholsterer, does an incredible job. He finished the chair in just three days. It's the perfect addition to the living room.

My mom and I (but mostly my mom) painted four areas of our house last week. I chose two different grays. A dark gray for the dining room, and a light, warmer gray for the living room, den, and hallway.

But when we got to Sherwin-Williams and saw the exact same paint swatches under the fluorescent lighting of the store, I UTTERLY FREAKED THE HECK OUT. The light, warm-ish gray looked PINK. Ohmygoodness, I can't have PINK WALLS!

I took the swatches outside to view them in natural light, but the thought of the PINK inside the STORE totally tainted my ability to see the color as it actually was and make any kind of rational decision.

So I bailed, as I am wont to do in these kinds of situations.

I instead chose a color that looked good in the store. In the pink lighting. Therefore, my "warm" gray turned into a very "cool" gray when I brought it into my home. This has happened to me so many times before. I always choose a color in my house, and then change my mind last-minute when I see the color under those horrid fluorescent lights.

Next time I need to paint, can someone please come along with me to the store and punch me straight in the nose the minute I start acting like I'm about to change my mind?



But the color is fine. I do like it. I think I'll keep it this way. For a while. It's just not what I originally picked, darn it!

It's all coming together and this place is really starting to feel like home. We absolutely love it. Dr P has been wonderful through all the painting, furniture buying, chair recovering, light fixture installing, neurotic mind-changing, etc. I'm lucky to have such a level-headed person.

Hopefully his patience is still intact in three months when I announce that I need to repaint the living room, den and hallway.