Friday, 24 May 2013

Blue Willow

I am obsessed with Blue Willow.



And now you are disappointed.

After a several week absence, I return with what? A post about dishes? How sad. Nothing about poops or something embarrassing I did when I was 11, or details of my mom's sordid past, or something Brian said that I've twisted into an insult about my fatness?

Nope. It's all about stuff I want and lately all I want, among a lot of other things, is Blue Willow.

My first memories of Blue Willow are of some plates we had up at our cottage near The Pas, Manitoba. They were probably chipped cast offs from some long forgotten set of the prior owners of the cabin. But to me they were the most elegant and exotic things going. I remember thinking that they kind of proved that our family was, like, totally rich.

Dreams die hard wen you're young.

Anyway, so now I've been thinking about finally decorating our bedroom, and the motif on which I have settled is, you guessed it, Blue Willow.  White, with a couple different blues, and a soup├žon of Chinoiserie.




I started by getting a big white dresser from IKEA (which i put together with only a little man-rage help from Brian and only putting something on backwards twice!). 


Yes. I've finally admitted that I am IKEA and not ABC Carpet and Home. I am everyman.

Next I have to refinish Brian's bedside table because he really likes it and it's awful. I need to learn how paint furniture. How much do you have to actually sand a piece before you can prime and paint? Like right down to the actual wood, or just enough to get the sheen of varnish/stain/whatever off of it?

I'd love to find this wallpaper, but I think Brian might put his foot down.








I've ordered a needlepoint pattern for a cushion, because what bed is complete without dog hair and an abundance of throw cushions for the cat to throw up on?


I'm a gonna makey this.

And when it's all done, I will sit in my bed with a posy of lily of the valley next to me and read books and talk to my cat. I will wear a bed jacket. Because that's what Castle's mom would do.


Gently darling, your
 auntie's hung

And for those of you who are still waiting for something more typical of me...

Poop.





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