Decorating Diaries - Almost A Shower

Here are some pictures of where we are with the shower. It's slowly coming together.  Still waiting for the counterop to the cabinets to come in--we were told maybe this Friday but I doubt it.  I'm hoping for next Friday.  Also praying the tile will be done by next Wednesday. Which means we can get the drywall guy back in, which means I can clean, prime, and paint. Then the plumber, then the electrician (if we ever make it to a store to pick out light fixtures) and then--gasp--we're done!

Meanwhile, enjoy the photos:

Eventually, the back wall of the shower will mirror the tile pattern on the floor. 

Cut outs in the back wall for shampoo and bath products.

 

A Day for Dogs

I was on the phone this morning with Melody, who is designing the new web site for Spotlight Publishing (soon to be unveiled). I glanced at the clock and my blood pressure shot up.

"It's 10:45," I fumed. "The guy doing my tile told me he'd be here at 8.  I'm calling his supervisor as soon as we hang up."

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than call waiting beeped in.  "Melody, hang on," I said. "This is the tile guy."

I was much chastened when I returned.  The reason Tile Guy was late was that driving in (he lives an hour away), he noticed some puppies abandoned on the side of the road. He pulled over and this malnourished dog (SO CUTE though - he took a picture with his cell phone) came racing over, eager to be petted. The mama dog was more standoffish, but the two puppies were all over him. He had some dog biscuits in the car and the dogs just wolfed them down, like they hadn't eaten in days.  So he called Animal Control and was waiting for them to get there, which is why he wasn't at my house.

If there is ever a "all-is-forgiven" excuse in my book, this would be it.  "You're a good person," I told him.  "I'm so glad you stopped."  The cop who came out wanted to just lock the dogs in a pen that was by this semi-abandonded house where the dogs were in the front yard. The yard was littered with beer cans and the house was in ill-repair.  Tile Guy stood firm and pointed out the dogs were thin and starved and not being cared for, so the cop reluctantly agreed to take them to the area vet or pound.

When I finished relaying all this to Melody, I said, "That noise you hear is the sound of the Universe smacking me down."  Here I am all upset the guy is late when he's out doing this good deed that I wish more people would do.   

Two straight days involving stray or runaway dogs--wonder what the message is in that? 

Mohawk Dog On The Loose

I usually stay upstairs in my office and work when contractors are here during the day (when they're not here I lay around on the couch and eat bon-bon's --ha ha!  Kidding, honey!).  So I'm upstairs this morning when I hear Tile Guy call my name:

"Dena? Do you know your neighbor's dogs?"

"What?" I ask.  I tromp down the stairs and find Tile guy holding the world's cutest dog. Well, okay, maybe not the cutest, but very adorable nonetheless.  Sort of a fuzzy white with a bit of a mohawk look on top.  He had on a blue cloth collar and was hanging out in Tile Guy's arms as though he was born to be there. Just being rocked like a baby, head back, checking out the hallway.

"Who are you?" I cooed, coming closer.  Mohawk Dog gave my nose several friendly licks.

"I saw him running around and called him over," said Tile Guy.  "Do you know who he belongs to?"

I didn't, but I slipped on my shoes and Tile Guy handed me Mohawk Dog to take around to my neighbors to see if they knew who he belonged to. Mohawk Dog hung out in my arms and seemed very pleased to be carried about in such a glorified fashion.

My neighbor Margerite was home. "Oh, he belongs to that house one street up with the big fenced in yard," she told me.  "He gets free a lot."

Fenced in yard,  one street up.   Check.  I start walking. Mohawk dog is getting heavier.  I'd guess he weighs maybe 15  pounds. I decided to chance putting him down, just becasue he was obviously such a good-tempered and trained dog.  I figured he'd follow me.

And if you call walking a good 10 feet in front of me as following me, then yes, follow me he did.  He moved out of the street when cars passed (thank God), and finally we got to the fenced in yard.  Where--guess what!--a medium sized yellow dog already stood.

Yellow dog seemed anxious to see Mohawk Dog and gave several  high leaps, trying to mount the fence. Luckily nothing came of that. I decided to knock on a few doors before putting Mohawk Dog in the yard with Yellow dog.  I  must have knocked on 5-6 doors, and got only 1 answer.  A very nice elderly couple who informed my dog was in fact, "Ed's Dog--you know, Ed on Decauter? That's his dog. Just let him run free and he'll go home."

Okay great, thanks for the help.  Moving on, now.  I knocked on a few more doors--nothing.  I walked back to fenced in yellow dog and looked doubtfully down at Mohawk Dog. "Are you guys friends?" I asked.  I picked up Mohawk Dog and held him near the top of the fence.  The two dogs nosed each other, which I took to be a good sign. HOWEVER, as I began to  lower Mohawk Dog down the other side of the fence, he began wriggling and growling and nipped at my finger.  Nipped in the nicest way--his teeth actually got one of my fingers and he didn't bite down (and he could have), but he applied pressure to let me know this was not how he wanted the situation to develop.

Images of me putting this poor dog in the wrong yard with the wrong dog flashed through my mind.  What if Yellow dog ate Mohawk dog?  Once he was in, he was in. I wouldn't be able to get at him.  So I put Mohawk Dog back on the ground at my feet.

"Fine," I said.  "You win. Come with me." My plan was to go back to Margerites and get a leash and maybe keep Mohawk Dog in my yard until later tonight when people would be home.

But Mohawk dog had had enough of me.  He ran up and down the street and in and out of yards and came to me a few times, but eventually darted off on his on.  All in all, I probably spent 40 minutes with this dog. And I have no idea if he made it home.

I suspect he does belong with Yellow Dog and will probably hang out in the area and find his way home.  I just wish people would be more careful with their dogs. And that there was a way to match a dog with a home.  Like maybe we can all keep pictures of our pets out on our front porch.

I think I'll do life-size blow-ups of my cats. 

England/Scotland Trip - Can't Wait

The prospect of our upcoming trip to England/Scotland has me chomping at the bit.  It's given me back some perspective that there is more going on in the world outside the narrow confines of my daily interests.  Our last extended vacation was three years ago to Hawaii.  That's just far too long a period to stick around rural NC <grin>.

I curled up last night in bed with my 2006 Fodor's guide to Great Britain. With a pencil I checkmarked all the sites I want to see. Right.  Cancel the two weeks and make it two months.  Do I want to see castles? Yes. Stately homes? Yes. Pubs? Good God, yes. Hiking/Walking trails? Yes. Moors and cliffs? Yes. English gardens? Yes.

The wonderful thing about Blair is that we are a perfectly matched traveling pair. We move at the speed of light, racing from ancient ruin to ancient ruin, but never feeling rushed. We're both up before dawn and are typically the first people in line for the opening of any site.  Did you know, when we went to Paris years ago we were at the gates of the Eiffel Tower right as it opened and we were the only ones there? So we climbed the Eiffel alone--a very cool thing.

We also get hungry on the same schedule and neither of us are much for the nightlife, preferring to knock ourselves out during the day with sites, than to bed early to study the itinerary for the next day.  

The only major travel difference I say we have is that I like to stop and sit at little cafes, which I think Blair doesn't enjoy as much.  France was just filled with little bistros and sidewalk cafes, begging you to stop and enjoy a coffee and pastry. And England with its tea and scones is going to keep me very busy.

We're going to start looking at hotels and B&B's on the web, figuring out where to stay. I prefer to stay in a central area and drive everywhere.  Not so wild about having to pack and unpack multiple times during a trip. I'm hoping for this trip we'll get by with no more than 3 different hotel stays.

I must say, as I sit at my desk working, if it becomes too much, it's lovely to glance up and out the window and just remember that in a couple of months, I'll be roaming moors and hills in Scotland, stuffed on scones.