begun painting swirling vines on the legs and backs of them. My idea was to create a jungle theme. Id tried to paint a roaring lion on the seat of one but the unfortunate lions mouth got too wide and his teeth too long. Regrettably the result was that the chair looked like it would devourbottom firstanyone who tried to sit in it.
And then there were the mustache cups. Mickey calls it odd, but ever since I was a child, Ive been fascinated with mustaches. I dont like them on the men I date, but I have fond memories of my late grandfathers bushy mustache. I was particularly intrigued by the concept of a cup meant to keep his mustache dry with an extra bit of porcelain stretched across the cup so that the drinker could sip through the small opening it provided and protect his mustache at the same time. As kids, wed scoured neighborhood rummage sales for the things and had come home with several cracked and chipped antiques.
Grandmother made sure that when Grandfather died I inherited those cups and, for some bizarre reason, also his shaving brushes. My grandfathers old-fashioned ways left me with shaving brushes, razor strops and empty bottles of Old Spice.
Id decided it was time to clear out my odd-ball collection and there were cracked cups, brushes and strops scattered all over my coffee table. And if that werent enough, Id baked yesterday and filled my collection of clown cookie jars with oatmeal-raisin, chocolate-chip and macadamia-nut white-chocolate cookies. The jars were still sitting on the counter beaming out at me with painted smiles, triangle eyebrows and large bow ties.
I was used to such chaos but if I imagined looking through Davids eyes, it must seem as if hed walked into a weird and freaky fun house at a surreal carnival.
And then Hammie, sensing my discomfort, began to race around on his squeaky wheel and Chipper careened on three legs into Davids ankles, took hold of his pant leg with his razor-sharp teeth and began to growl, obviously channeling a Rottweiler.
Welcome to my home, I said meekly. This might turn out all right after all. After this experience, David would never want to drive me home or even darken my doorstep again.
Thanks to his good breeding, David didnt flinch, although his eyes did widen when Chipper let go of his pant leg and tried to take a bite out of his highly polished shoe.
Sorry about this. I didnt know I was getting company.
Dont apologize. This is one of the mostinterestinghomes Ive ever seen.
Ill bet.
Chipper returned to gnawing on his pant leg. David, dragging the dog with him, moved toward the chairs. You have a lot of talent.
You are too kind. If I had talent, that lion would not look like it was going to eat alive the first person who sat on its face. I whisked the chairs out of the way, gathered the newspapers in my arm and nodded toward a pair of red chairs. Have a seat.
He dropped into the nearest chair, suppressing a sigh.
That will teach him to get involved with me, I thought wearily. Even I am confused when dealing with me.
I left him to absorb the atmosphere while I heated milk for hot chocolate. He seemed happy to see something familiarchina cups and a plate of fresh cookieswhen I returned.
Its not surprising I walk in my sleep, is it? I asked. When I look around here I realize that my waking life and my dream state are equally bizarre.
Hardly. He eyed the cup in my hand. If anything were to keep you awake it would probably be caffeine at 10:00 p.m.
Isnt cocoa supposed to put me to sleep?
He didnt answer. He just said, I like your house. Its cozy.
Cluttered.
Warm and inviting. Unique.
Ill give you that. It is interesting. And it will look much better once I get rid of the mustache cups, finish the chairs and give the dog away.
Pardon me? Give your dog away?
Hes not my dog. Not really. Im his foster mother.
Now David looked really confused. I didnt know. Is it a government program?
I couldnt help but smile. I wish it were. We could use the funding.
And then there were the mustache cups. Mickey calls it odd, but ever since I was a child, Ive been fascinated with mustaches. I dont like them on the men I date, but I have fond memories of my late grandfathers bushy mustache. I was particularly intrigued by the concept of a cup meant to keep his mustache dry with an extra bit of porcelain stretched across the cup so that the drinker could sip through the small opening it provided and protect his mustache at the same time. As kids, wed scoured neighborhood rummage sales for the things and had come home with several cracked and chipped antiques.
Grandmother made sure that when Grandfather died I inherited those cups and, for some bizarre reason, also his shaving brushes. My grandfathers old-fashioned ways left me with shaving brushes, razor strops and empty bottles of Old Spice.
Id decided it was time to clear out my odd-ball collection and there were cracked cups, brushes and strops scattered all over my coffee table. And if that werent enough, Id baked yesterday and filled my collection of clown cookie jars with oatmeal-raisin, chocolate-chip and macadamia-nut white-chocolate cookies. The jars were still sitting on the counter beaming out at me with painted smiles, triangle eyebrows and large bow ties.
I was used to such chaos but if I imagined looking through Davids eyes, it must seem as if hed walked into a weird and freaky fun house at a surreal carnival.
And then Hammie, sensing my discomfort, began to race around on his squeaky wheel and Chipper careened on three legs into Davids ankles, took hold of his pant leg with his razor-sharp teeth and began to growl, obviously channeling a Rottweiler.
Welcome to my home, I said meekly. This might turn out all right after all. After this experience, David would never want to drive me home or even darken my doorstep again.
Thanks to his good breeding, David didnt flinch, although his eyes did widen when Chipper let go of his pant leg and tried to take a bite out of his highly polished shoe.
Sorry about this. I didnt know I was getting company.
Dont apologize. This is one of the mostinterestinghomes Ive ever seen.
Ill bet.
Chipper returned to gnawing on his pant leg. David, dragging the dog with him, moved toward the chairs. You have a lot of talent.
You are too kind. If I had talent, that lion would not look like it was going to eat alive the first person who sat on its face. I whisked the chairs out of the way, gathered the newspapers in my arm and nodded toward a pair of red chairs. Have a seat.
He dropped into the nearest chair, suppressing a sigh.
That will teach him to get involved with me, I thought wearily. Even I am confused when dealing with me.
I left him to absorb the atmosphere while I heated milk for hot chocolate. He seemed happy to see something familiarchina cups and a plate of fresh cookieswhen I returned.
Its not surprising I walk in my sleep, is it? I asked. When I look around here I realize that my waking life and my dream state are equally bizarre.
Hardly. He eyed the cup in my hand. If anything were to keep you awake it would probably be caffeine at 10:00 p.m.
Isnt cocoa supposed to put me to sleep?
He didnt answer. He just said, I like your house. Its cozy.
Cluttered.
Warm and inviting. Unique.
Ill give you that. It is interesting. And it will look much better once I get rid of the mustache cups, finish the chairs and give the dog away.
Pardon me? Give your dog away?
Hes not my dog. Not really. Im his foster mother.
Now David looked really confused. I didnt know. Is it a government program?
I couldnt help but smile. I wish it were. We could use the funding.
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