Writing left handed

Thoughts from the Hot Tub

If all goes according to plan, by the time you read this, The European and I will be sitting in a hot tub overlooking the Chesapeake. (At least I will be. He might still be asleep but that is okay because I know that eventually he’ll join me and our first official holiday together will commence.)

I will also be 10 days away from becoming a home owner. The appraisal went through, the mortgage went through and I’ve sewn enough throw pillows to furnish a small castle so as far as I’m concerned, I’m pretty much good to go.

Someday I will get around to posting pictures of said pillows (they’re pretty fabulous, if I do say so myself), as well as the 4 (yes, 4!) chairs I’ve reupholstered, the patio set I got for $50 at a second hand store, the pair of Zen meditation cushions I decided I simply couldn’t live without, the newly refurbished ugly-old-desk-turned-fabulous-vanity and the bar that I am still sanding…

July 2014 083

A brief aside about the bar: it’s actually an old wooden ice box from the year of the flood that I have been “working on” for the past two months. (Did I mention that I broke my dad’s power sander in the process?) In my head, it looks very lovely and very chic and people come into my new house and say things like, “OH MY GOD!!! Where did you find that? It’s AMAZING!!!”

Reality however, is a different story.

Here, though, is where it comes in handy to be dating a man whose ex had very good taste. He invited me over for a movie night last Thursday then let me watch the Taney Dragons game instead because he found it “endearing” to see me “so excited about sports” and is hopeful that my sudden love of Little League will eventually translate into an appreciation of the US Open and other athletic pursuits.

(Another brief aside: we did talk about going to the US Open together. My first question was “Can I drink?” My second question was, “Can I wear a fancy hat?” My third question, upon finding out that the US Open isn’t actually the same thing as the Kentucky Derby, was “Umm… actually do you think maybe you could go with one of your friends from work?” Turns out tickets to the US Open are too expensive anyway but even though I eventually got behind the World Cup, I reserve my right to persist in not liking tennis.)

Now, getting back to the bar: in addition to making a lovely dinner complete with after dinner chocolates, the European presented me with a stack of catalogues. Home décor catalogues. Addressed to his ex. Which was a bit weird, but whatever.

“I’ve been saving these for you,” he said, “for your new house.”

They were all very lovely and all very fancy and I spent the majority of the commercial breaks leafing through them saying classy things like, “$300 for a wall hanging that I could make with some twigs and a glue gun? Are you f*cking kidding me???” but then I saw it: a bar. Just like the one in my head.

So now that I have an actual vision, I am determined to bring it to fruition.

But not this week. This week is all about sunsets and wine and the hot tub…

And preparing my syllabi for the upcoming semester…

And writing up a new handbook for my dance company…

And trying not to worry about what’s going to happen or not happen when The European goes away next month…

But all in due course.

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