Treasuring.

I wanted to start this post with something cute about how enamored of the Alexander Henry Collection I am, as I know I've mentioned before. Yes, Alexander Henry is totally my boyfriend. But it's just getting out of hand. I think about it all the time. I don't buy that much, I guess, but I think about buying it. Just to have. Because it's delicious. You can't trust me around it. I try to think of ways to smuggle more home and not get caught (by my hubbers, not STEALING from work, heaven forbid). The prints get in my head and follow me around. I'll get a third of a yard or whatever here and there just so I can sleep at night. It's sick. I won't lie. It's completely weird.

I don't know. At JoAnn a few weeks ago I was (gleefully) cutting some Alex fabric for a guest who was grumbling about how you used to only be able to find AH and Robert Kaufman at the independent quilt shops and was all wistful about how they sold out and wholesale to the big chains now. I don't know where to stand on issues like that anymore. I personally am at once grateful and tortured by AH's deal with JoAnn.

Here, let's talk about something else. In this last batch of photos I just dumped off the camera, of stacks of coveted fabric, a maxed-out GC-card-worth of speakers and mixing boards, here's a new photo from The Cave AKA The Master Bedroom, version Lots of Dots Point Oh. We've become bedding junkies. I've always been a fan of the dot. Way too much hoarding and excess going on over here. Must be some kind of weird compulsive personality type we both are. Way too wanty. Get zen or die.

Missing.

I have such lovely friends.
Thank you, Ms. Small Bird. You are so cute. I'm working on your swapperdoo still. It's coming!

Birdwatching.

Too cute! matteart, @ etsy via Domino via Oh Joy!. Every single item in his shop is darling. Please go buy something from him because he makes my new favorite stuff and I have no money right now so I can't!

All-Knowing.

Eighty-six grannies down, infinity billion to go. So, so boring!!!!! Only twelve colors remain to mix up and it's so un-fun.

I have started the most dinky little compost heap in the backyard. Do you remember Madame Trash Heap? I hope mine turns out like her and is all wise and stuff.

You can listen to the new Interpol single at Spinner. Interpol makes me all squshy. I love that band to little tiny pieces. New album out July 10.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mommies in the house.

'Cuz today, my heart swings.

Boing.

Oh. Sorry. Hello. This will catch you up.



We painted (ok. Aaron painted. But I did the taping off and the corners.) the spare room. Good-bye, ugly green extremely poorly-done faux finish. Then Aaron's mom breezed into town (HA!) and slept in that room for a couple days and we had to amuse her (which mostly fell on me, somehow). So that was that.



Then on Saturday we drove to Chicago to see this baby get dipped in holy water and cry a lot. I think this is a very sweet photo and I plan to get a nice print run off for Eric and Kate, but secretly, and you have to promise you won't tell, Elke's intense sweet little gaze is totally transfixed on a candle flame. Wee baby pyro!



While in Chicagoland, the culmination of me staging many fits ("I NEVER GET TO DO ANYTHING I WANT WHEN WE'RE IN THE CITY EVER.") over the course of two years was finally realized and we went to IKEA. Dude. We were there for three and half hours. It was bananas. I was very pleased to finally get there, but by the end, I was completely burnt out and dehydrated and tired. A's mom bought us this bistro table FROM THE FUTURE as our housewarming present. I think the peeling paint on the garage looks almost romantic here, but that's going bye-bye this summer.

So what's new with you?