You’re not going to believe me when I tell you this, but I actually starting collecting photos for this post about 2 months ago! That was well before the craziness of Joe Exotic and Carol Baskin took over our lives and HEARTS, and now we will forever equate quarantine with “F@CK CAROL BASKIN!” But for me this love affair with tigers started long ago when I first started collecting Asian antiques. I just LOVE me a tibetan tiger rug! I would spot them here and there at antique markets, but never pulled the trigger because dang, they were pretty expensive. Now it seems like the world is just as in love and there are sooooo many fun tiger cat options right now!
Recently I had been buying tiger stuff… I started with this French needlepoint pillow, (which sold already) and then I went full on Tiger-rific with a large porcelain tiger sculpture, like the one below. I just can’t seem to list it for sale. The life of a collector/hoarder is hard, y’all.
Damn, I want a yard of this fabric SO badly. Let’s play a game… it’s called guess how much this fabric costs…. Guess. Higher. Higher. HIGHER. Did you just say $490?!? If that seems reasonable to you, then we need to be friends asap.
Here are some more affordable fabric options and I have to say that tiger and peacock is pretty friggin’ fantabulous! That would be so great in a little girl’s room. Someone out there please base a room design on that fabric!!
Can we all just agree that tigers are freaking amazing, gorgeous creatures that deserve to be admired in their full wild glory? And that anyone who has one as a pet is just outta their loco mind? And yet, there is something in us that wants to hold and kiss and cuddle a baby tiger so deeply, that maybe it can make anyone of us a little insane?
Let’s agree on this at least, that we must fight those tiger loving urges, my friends. Lest we risk being (willingly?) enslaved in a cultish harem….or perhaps the new owner of a yard of $500 fabric.
Yes, my friends, it’s true. I turned 40 last week in the time of corona. My day went a bit like this…
I awake to the sound of text messages coming in.
Awwww!! So early!!
Not so much. They’re TWO separate reminders that there are zoom conferences for my kids in an hour. Before a Corona-Panic sets in, mom’s text comes in and saves the day.
**Corona-Panic: The feeling you get when you realize that the person in front of you has just grabbed the last loaf of bread in the state.
**Corona-Panic, pre-corona: The feeling you get in Mexico on spring break, when the cooler is out of Corona.
I leap out of bed with a spryness of a girl in her twenties and proceed to put on a full face of gorgeous, glowing make-up. Wait, I’m still dreaming, in a half sleep…. instead, I drag myself out of bed and put on my new daily uniform; sweats, thick socks, shirt, sweater and ANOTHER sweater. These days my bones feel chilly.
I vow to buy myself those electric socks.
I’m immediately smothered with hugs from my family. They’re all boys so the love fest lasts about 3.4 seconds, except from my favorite which snuggles me a full 2 seconds longer. Wow, it really is my birthday. A revelation my twin said to me last week pops suddenly into my head, “Wrinkle cream can’t save you now!” I give that one an EXTRA firm squeeze (around the neck) which is both filled with resigned bitterness and absolute pride. I’m cultivating a comedian and that shit is damn funny. Bleak and ironic. Perfect for today, I think.
I have asked for ONE thing for my birthday. I’m salivating thinking of that hot cup of Starbucks coffee. Nope. In the Time of Corona, it’s coffee made with whatever milk product is in the fridge. Today is creamy whole milk (tomorrow it’s low-fat, fyi). I take the win.
20 minutes later, I shed some. Tears, that is. I can’t figure out all the kid’s passwords for Zoom, Clever, Epic, Google Classroom, Zearn, SeeSaw, Benchmark. Turns out that turning 40 is a lot like turning 14. There is a bunch of F-ed up hormonal activity, even pimples (!?!) and I’m not sure who I am anymore or who I want to be when I grow up.
Also, why are these kids so big and where did they come from?? I eye them with distrust while attempting to social distance myself. That lasts all of 3 minutes… until the “I’m starving’s” start coming in. How can these aliens always be starving?
I somehow get it ALL working. I look at the laundry and decide NOT to do it. I’m a bad bitch. I do a few leg kicks, squats, hip thrusts. Yup. Still got it.
I don’t feel a day over 39.
It’s 3rd meal time, or what other people call lunch out in the distant world. I dig past the THREE 10lb bags of shredded cheese my husband bought to get to some sliced turkey. Was there a cheese shortage I wasn’t aware of? I think the tiny bag I bought at the hippie market scared him. Hippie Market? This is how I talk now.
My gf calls me and tells me 40 isn’t that bad. I ask her if she’s ever tried Crepe Erase. It’s on sale at Ulta. True Story.
My oldest son defends me throughout the day… Don’t say that to mom, it’s her birthday. Listen to mom, it’s her birthday. I’m legitimetly terrified for tomorrow.
With dinner being made and a homemade cake in the oven, I put on Shrill. Is Aidy Bryant a hero? Absolutely, I decide. All of a sudden I’m feeling pretty darn good. I belt out “I’m on the deep end, watch as I dive in” while doing some robotic dance moves. I could be losing it, or maybe I’m just happy?
Shrug. I decide over-self-reflection is a thing of my 30’s. Self-acceptance feels very 40.
Over dinner I climb up on my horse, cue the orchestra, and tell the kids that I’ve done great things in my life and feel good about the next chapter (remember I’m saying old people shit now), that I have a lot left in me (??) and really feel like the best is yet to come. Even I can’t believe the garbage coming out of my mouth. I can feel them rolling their eyes, mouthing, “Okay Boomer,” (I’M NOT A F’IN BOOMER FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME!!). I can see them inching off the edge of their chair to attempt an escape. BUT I’M FEELIN’ IT Y’ALL. I talk another 15 minutes longer, JUST BECAUSE I CAN. Normally, THEY talk and I listen. But today it’s all about me and I’m a savage and mama take what she wants.
And with that, I know my day is complete. I’ve made it another 24 hours without leaving the house. I’ve annoyed the kids with a long speech that they couldn’t do a thing about (always a bonus). I’ve washed every dish in the house 2x’s over. (Hand sanitizer is for suckers.) I may have entered the best years of my life?
I PICK THE DAMN SHOW WE WATCH. Me. I am all powerful.
I am here! Alive and well! I have just been keeping busy with the boys, work and selling a gang o’ stuff. It’s been fun and I can’t even believe it’s freaking March and that the world is falling apart.
How about we just pretend all that other stuff doesn’t exist and talk about boring, non-important things like what I’ve been cooking up?
A few weeks ago I bought the beauty below. I found it on an auction site and paid… wait for it… you will die… it’s coming… a whopping $22. Overall, the cabinet is in really great shape except there is a chunk missing on the top corner. Who would buy a cabinet with a chunk missing?! THIS GAL! No-one will ever see that chunk, yeah baby! It’s most likely from the 1980’s (like duh), made in Italy and it’s made of birds-eye maple that has been heavily shellacked, as was the way in those days. I forgot to photo the sides, but they are lovely! They’re the best part actually. They have a wavy detail and the whole piece is in an oval shape. You may be thinking, “Yak! This thing is ugly” but I see so much potential as a bathroom cabinet. Can you just imagine her stripped down, re-stained perhaps, with legs and a marble top? Probable some new handles too =)
Right now she is sitting in my master bedroom. Oh vey.
But before taking the cabinet apart, I’ve decided to tackle a different project! Wow, remember when I used to do those?! Ha!
I have this cut-in area with 4 doors that leads to the master bathroom, from my bedroom. To the left is a sauna (which my fancy ass uses for treasure storage) and to the right is my closet. This wwwwhhhhooollleee thing is really boring and no fun at. all. The doors are just flat, hollow doors and I would LOVE to change them out, but that’s a pain and probably not necessary in the grand scheme of life. For now I’m thinking (and I’ve been thinking for a few months now) that I’d like to try to do a treatment on them.
I’m pondering a cerused oak look… ala something like this…
Can I do it?! Who knows! Will I try! Yes, I will!
I found this article from Bob Vila and it doesn’t look too difficult. Of course, starting any new project is ALWAYS way more than you expect. As of today, I’ve only sanded the doors and already I’m pretty annoyed…. I didn’t think about removing my mirror on the inside of the door and basically sanded into my closet. I’m the bestest.
It’s hilarious because I waited until the day before our cleaning lady came so that I could make a mess and only half clean it up. Pat on the back for laziness! She hasn’t quit on us yet, but stay tuned because we are a house full of lazy dirt balls!
Right now, the doors are sanded and the base coat is mixed (I had some left over crap in the garage). I need to patch up some holes and get that paint on there! It’s a 2 week cure time before I can apply the glaze, and now that I’ve actually done something, I’m itching to faux bois! But something is telling me that I may have some time on my hands next week…. call it a hunch.
What do you think??
Any advice? I’m not optimistic about getting a realistic wood grain while the doors are hanging, but I really, REALLY don’t want to remove them.