When you care enough to send the very best

We have already established that I love all things odd. "Normal" just isn't in my vocabulary. We have also established that I am a Habitat for Humanity thrift store junky. I can usually find wonderful little oddities there, and they usually find their way into my car and my heart. This light fixture is just the latest in the growing list of HfH finds. My wonderful hubby and I picked this little one up for just $10.00. I didn't even think to see how it was supposed to be hung. It looked like a ceiling mount to me and it wasn't until I got the thing home, DH had the ceiling fan down and was perch on top of a step stool ready to hang it, that I noticed the label inside that said, "wall mount only" crap, double crap! I don't have use for a wall mount hanging light, I needed a fun and corky ceiling mounted light. Crap! Now in these situations there is only one thing to do, besides yelling crap, call my sweetheart of a brother in law, Kevin to help. See DH is swell and all, he's a keeper, but anything outside of matching colored wires and he freaks. Not one to find satisfaction in a problem solved; he is more of the shrugging shoulders, wrinkle up the brow, I don't care how much you cry and throw yourself on the floor, it is meant to be a wall mounted fixture and that's it, kind of person. But my BiL, he's the go to guy in a pinch, heck he's the go to guy in any situation. I am so grateful that he not only possesses the skills, but catch him on the right day, under the right stars, and in the right state of mind and he's a true problem solver extrodanaire! In a matter of minutes, ok it took an hour, the thing was reworked and wa-la one beautiful, corky, odd ceiling mounted light fixture was up and working. Is there such a thing as BiL day? Cause I'm thinking there should be...maybe I'll contact Hallmark, they're always in the market for a new holiday to shove down our throats...

chicken or the egg?

I have decided that there are two kinds of people, those that love things and those that love the idea of things. I am the latter. For those of you who are the former, let me just orient you to this slightly off kilter world of the lover of the idea of things. You see we fancy ourselves as users of nifty things, we trick ourselves into believing that these things will jumpstart something in us and we will, I don't know, USE them. It is the follow-through that the lover of the idea of things needs to work on. The idea of things gets me into more trouble then I can possibly get out of without intervention by a team of trained professionals. The idea of things leads me to make decisions based on possibilities. The possibility of creation, the possibility of organization, or the possibility of conformity, leads me down certain aisles that the likes of me should never see. Rows and rows of ideas of things call my name and I automatically see the possibilities in them, the opportunity for betterment, for expansion, for improvement. These ideas of things come in a plethora of shapes and sizes, these ideas of things are sourced from a variety of publicly traded enterprises, these ideas of things are evil. Like a junky looking for her next fix, I am drawn in by the sight and smell of theses ideas of things. They lure me into their vile web and I find myself touching them. I am convinced that will be enough, but it never is, soon I am smelling the idea of things and the battle is lost. Flooded with the sensory impute of possibility, quickly I lose my grip on reality, I begin to experience what can only be referred to as desire. I have taken that step into the spiraling world of possibilities fueled by the idea of things and then it happens these temptress land exactly where they shouldn't, in my cart. Damn, and I was on step six of my twelve step program. The journals shown here are exhibit A. I love the idea of a journal, the possibility of organizing my often disorganized thoughts, leaving a piece of me behind for the next generations to see, but yet most of them remain unopened, unused, and unloved except for the idea of them, of course, now that I love. I have spent years working to overcome my addiction to the idea of things. I have won as many battles as I have lost. Through all of this warring over the idea of things and things I have come to a precipice. I think the idea of something is just as valuable as the something. It has to be, because we are just ideas of something swirling around each other waiting to be plucked off our safe shelves and dropped into a basket or cart so that we can become somethings...All somethings first come from the idea of something...Maybe I don't need those other six steps after all!