And The Cabots Speak Only To God
I Am Trying To Post More Frequently

Step Into My Boudoir

Before I forget, I should tell you that I unfairly maligned those Asian Ribs. Although it is true that the five spice powder caused the kitchen to smell like pie for a few days (not bad, just not porky), the flavor in the finished product was not nearly as overwhelming as I had feared. In fact, they were acceptably delicious. So that, coupled with the useful enchilada hint (to make corn tortillas pliable enough to roll, simply arrange them in a single layer on baking sheets, spray lightly with cooking spray, and then bake in a low oven for five minutes), enables me to give Cook's Illustrated Cover and Bake my qualified stamp of approval. I am adding the qualification because I have only tried those two recipes and it is possible everything else in the book sucks. If so I shall issue a prominent retraction.

I managed to get our network back up again (after installing Panda Virus, remember?) although I temporarily wiped out Messenger and Explorer in the process. Also, Steve was unable to access a few work files blah blah blah whiner fine, pay someone to do your IT work why don't you, blah a few eggs are always broken, you know. Anyway, and more importantly, observe the ease with which I can now slip undetected on to Steve hard drive to grab this photo. Doorway_2This is the doorway into our bedroom and the blank wall on the left is driving me mad. The perspective in the photo seems off to me, so to give you a sense of scale the wall is about 18 feet long. In the two years we have lived here I have tried covering this space with 1) a ginorjumbo antique map 2) several smaller paintings 3) low bookshelves. Nothing has really worked and I cannot figure out why. It always seemed odd to walk into the room and have a profile of something right in front of you. However, once I am inside the room it seems odd to have nothing on the wall at all. Do you see the problem? Decorating, as I may have mentioned in the past, is not my forte. So what can I do? A bench? A thin table? The space between the wall and the bed is, um, seven feet if that helps. And the walls are a mushroomy beige that the people who built the house chose. Perhaps if we just painted the walls a warmer color it would look less glaringly empty? I will accept any and all suggestions with cowering gratitude.          

Oh! And while we are on the subject, although this is more of a marital issue than a design problem, but it is tangential, can you see the corner of the duvet cover there? The purplish, tealish, goldenrodish thing? Yes, well, Steve had this batik fabric that he loved (LOVED) so we had it made into that cover. And he dotes upon it. But I hate it. HATE it. It reminds me of Nagel and Cyndi Lauper and shoulder pads out to hee-yah. Something about the color scheme.... anyway, any thoughts on how to go back on an agreement with ones spouse? I originally thought I could live with it and approved the project, but it turns out I cannot. I tried to gently tell Steve that I was afraid, perhaps, maybe, the cover, was not, exactly, a pity, but no? He merely looked shocked and reminded me what we had paid the seamstress to make it. Like, that settles it.

So is it nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of an unfortunate textile or is it better to take arms against the sentimental and financial attachment of ones bedmate and, while opposing, rend it? That is the question: should I suck it up or accidentally shred it?

I hope you all have a lovely weekend. How are you by the way? Good?

PS I should probably apologize for the cat paintings on the far wall but I will not. They were done by a folk artist named Wendy, um, Press-something (house paint on board, how whimsical) and I like them. I do, however, know that people who have four cats should not have pictures of still more cats on the wall. It leads other people to then give them cat spoon rests and cat coasters and cat trivets etc. and it prohibits them from bitching about it. Because, you know, aren't those PORTRAITS of cats you do not even know in your bedroom? Who are you kidding?