First, do your homework:
Well done. You may proceed:
After the four-hour calendar fiasco, I checked the clock. Only two hours until Jason would get home! Spurred on by panic, it was at this point that my conniving little brain thought of a loophole in my no-spending-money rule. We can EAT the decorations when we're done with them. Off to VEELY'S!!
Apples, pears, tomatoes, and... those tiny little decorative pumpkins are edible, right? I guess we'll find out. And, sadly, I did break down and buy $6 worth of (probably inedible) plants.
Bahhh, they're too cute for me to feel bad. Meet Fernadine and Ruffles!
(Poor babies, little do they know that I'm the Elmira Fudd of the houseplant world. I hope they at least survive until we leave.)
Regardless, they made Mr. Sad & Hungry Bookcase feel much better. I also gave him branches, fruit, hats & scarves, and topped it all off with the lid of the Marilyn Monroe poster that we found in the closet.
Moving on, let's meet Mr. Sad & Hungry Bookcase post- surgical operation and wardrobe makeover... TA DA!!!!
|Avert your eyes from the second shelf up on the right... the Marilyn Monroe puzzle is now topless.|
Satisfied, I moved on to the dining room table. I decided the apartment needed a heckuva lot more clashery, so if you're prone to epilepsy, please close your eyes until I say so:
Now, scroll down. Scroll down a little more. Okay, it's gone; you can open your eyes again.
Blinding, wasn't it? I know! I'm so proud. There I stood, hypnotized by my handiwork, when --BLING!-- the arrival of email ice-dunked me back to reality. Jason was on his way home. Ten minutes, people. I still had piles of branches and miniature squash on the floor.
Fueled by rabid determination, I hurriedly arranged little Sveedish nature artifacts everywhere (carefully arranged to NOT LOOK carefully arranged). (You know how us artsy-types are.)
I stood back to survey the construction zone. Amidst all the wilderness now invading our apartment, a giant, blank white wall glared at me from above the couch. I snatched up our map of Lund and ran from room to room, slipping in my socks. How the heck could I get this to stick on the wall?! Now fully tweaked-out from desperation, I flung open the kitchen cabinets.
Oh, hello, jar of honey. You're going to help me out for just a second, okay?
But instead, he saw...
J: Hey, April, how was your-- whoa. One of THOSE days, huh?
A: (nods with crazed grin)
J: Good! Uh, wow... it's awesome! Hey, how'd you get the map to stick on the wall?
A: atinybitofhoney SOooo, what should we do for dinner?
J: WHAT?! (laughs nervously as though I'm kidding)
To make a long story short, we compromised by using itty bits of bubble gum to keep the map up. (And once I explained to him the original alternatives, he was VERY glad I had used honey instead of peanut butter.)
|Observe the Matthews-er in his new natural habitat... he LOOOVES it!|