The Dome House: Part I
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it … well, once or twice here, but a lot of times in real life: St. Augustine is a weird, weird place.
I was about to say that despite all the oddities, it’s really endeared itself to me over the past year or two I’ve become a regular visitor — but really, I think it’s endeared itself to me because of all the oddities. Let’s face it — I like weird stuff, and St. Augustine is filled with it.
While I have many favorite spots, all must-visits while I’m there, I have one that takes the cake — The Dome House.
Weird, right? It’s a house, but it’s a dome! It’s The Dome House! Read more…
What doesn’t kill me…
For the past hour or so, I’ve been pondering this old adage: “What doesn’t kill me will make me stronger.”
This is A LIE.
In fact, I now believe what doesn’t kill me will sap me of my will to live.
Specifically, I’m speaking of my newest home improvement project — the downstairs room that no one really ever knew what to do with.
It’s configured in a weird L shape, and it’s the first room you see when you come into the house. It’s kind of cool because it has a fireplace. Read more…
In Which Franklin Gets Beat Up
I would like to begin by stating that I am a pacifist. I dislike physical violence to what some may find ridiculous levels.
Example: Today, there was an ant walking across a ledge right next to my desk.
While it did not frighten me (only spiders do that — other bugs are A-OK in my book), I could not kill it to get rid of it. I just felt bad — I mean, those guys have ant families, yes? Yes.
Who am I to cut its life short?
Naturally, I had another person in the office do the dirty deed because really who wants an ant hanging around no matter how bad you feel for the thing… I mean, they get in your hair and in your stuff and really are just creepy crawly things when it comes right down to it. Damn, now I feel terrible because I didn’t put it in a cup and put a piece of paper on the other end and let it escape outside… Maybe my coworker did that. Yes, she must have, most definitely. Right? …Right?
Anyway.
When we last left Franklin, he just got his first coat of stain. Since then, poor Franklin got beat up. Bad.
By these guys:
Poor Franklin. Read more…
The merits of ‘sofa’ versus ‘couch’
For some reason, I hate the word sofa. Sofa. S.O.F.A. I can’t wrap my head around why, but it has always really bugged me.
But nowadays, I seem to be using it a lot — while I greatly prefer couch, and will use that term whenever possible over the evil sofa, in some instances couch just doesn’t seem right. To prove the point, which of the following sounds better?
This…
Oh, yes, I’m looking for a sofa table — can you please direct me to the appropriate section of the store?
Or this…
Can y’all show me tha tables? Tha ones for behind tha couch? Tha couch tables?
I’m making a sofa table for my living room. Actually, it’s done now. But in the process, it just didn’t seem right to tell people I was making a ‘couch table.’ Thus, my dislike of sofa has become even greater, yet its increase in use in my everyday language has exponentially increased.
So, that was a really long-winded way of telling you I’ve just completed my latest project: A couch sofa table.
For starters, I knew I wanted it to be a more industrial type of table (and, yes, Franklin is doing well, thanks for asking — more on him later). Naturally, I headed to what might be one of my most favorite places: Recycling The Past. Seriously, if you haven’t been, go there.
Anyway, I was looking for some old wood. I planned to make some planks out of wood with a bit of character in the grain. Instead, I found one of the most glorious doors I have ever seen.
I mean, sure, there was some peeling paint to contend with… Read more…
Turning ‘a table’ into ‘A Table.’
I am no stranger to industrial furniture.
In fact, I own several pieces from fs20 in Asbury Park — one of my favorite stores — including this fabulous coffee table:
It was made by an artist in the midwest, whose designs are frequently ripped off by Restoration Hardware certain large, chain stores that will not be named here.
I love industrial furniture so much, I decided to try my hand at creating my own. Read more…
The St. Augustine Lighthouse
I know. I’ve been M.I.A. I blame it on the snow. Yes, it’s hard to believe, but there was more snow. Seriously.
Anyway, moving on to a less snowy area, electronically.
Actually, that’s an outright lie. When I was in St. Augustine, I climbed to the top of the lighthouse. Where it was snowing. In Florida.
I know, right?
Standing at 165 feet above sea level with 219 steps leading to the top, the lighthouse is pretty tall – which explains the snow at the top, while there was only rain at ground level.
I did not look down – or up, for that matter – while I climbed, though I don’t have a fear of heights. Just of falling. Anyway, that didn’t stop me. Read more…
A very strange place
This just in: Snow still here. Get my drift?
Ow. Owww. OW.
Every inch of my upper body is in pain.
Why, you ask? This, this is why:
And you know what? This didn’t help, either:
Remember that snow from yesterday? Yeah, it’s still here. Read more…
It snow joking matter…
This morning, I drove past the parking lot of ShopRite. It was full. And when I say ‘full,’ I mean there was not one spot to be found.
I immediately began thinking: It is not New Year’s Eve yet. Christmas is over. The Fourth of July is sixth months away. This is New Jersey, so Boxing Day is not an option. What on earth could fill the parking lot of ShopRite to its absolute capacity?
Then, it hit me.
Well, actually, my mother, Mary Lou, hit me – hit me with the cold, wet facts: It was time for snow.
Of course! I thought to myself. The average population still thinks it’s the 1950s, and feels the need to buy milk whenever a flurry of flakes is predicted!
Well, let me tell you – it is now well over 12 hours later, and there are at least 12 inches of snow on the ground. This was no flurry.
Seriously. I dug out my Jeep – a.k.a. The Winter Car – at 7 p.m. Now, at 10:30 p.m., it is impossible to tell a shovel once graced the space around the Jeep. Read more…
tiltandswing 