Around the House

My apartment has a bit of a slopey floor in some places. Namely, all of them. It’s a charming and characterful feature unless you have a chair with wheels. When I first arranged my apartment, I managed to do it in such a way that my desk chair ended up repeatedly rolling me into the bathroom when I was innocently sitting at my desk trying to write. I do not manufacture all of my distractions myself. That one came out of nowhere.

Since I have rearranged everything more wisely, hung some pictures, and acquired some chairs, including The Chair, I thought it might be time for updated pictures since some of you are too distant to be lured into visiting.

The Living Room


In the living room please note the following.

The Chair, featured in a photo I call The Effects of Illness.


This was taken soon after The Chair arrived, before I rearranged the living room. I was extremely happy to see it because, as the picture shows, I was miserably sick at the time, and had spent several days making do with a camping chair. Even a perfectly healthy person wouldn’t like to sit in one of those things for more than an hour, and I’m convinced that the arrival of The Chair saved my life, even if I did have to call later and ask if they could please also send the legs thank you very much.

Literary Action Figures: “Comes With Pen and Writing Desk!”

Jane Austen, a gift from my mother, and Charles Dickens, a gift from Megan, adorn the Victorian Literature shelf. Yes, I organized my fiction by time period. Shut up. Jane, interestingly, has a double-jointed elbow and can’t quite stand up straight. (She drinks.) Charles is very dapper and bends at the knee. They are fantastic and they can dance, although Charles, being sturdier, has to hold up tottering Jane.


The Kitchen


It has not really changed except that I hung up some pictures. Almost all of the pictures in my apartment are of England or France, and of those 100% were taken by Christine who has a very wistful eye and is a evidently a whiz with Hue and Saturation. That horse that is lying down is sleeping, not dead. If it were dead I wouldn’t have framed it.


Of note in the kitchen:

One Reason I Always Wanted to Have My Own Refrigerator

And the Other Reason

That is my father’s handiwork. It was in my stocking last Christmas. Before I decapitated it, it looked like this:


Next to it is my mother’s equally anthropomorphized oven mitt. I kept the reindeer around for months, but the day finally came when I really needed the spoon. Now its antlers are my trophy. I think they lend the place an aristocratic air, à la Glenbogle House. Of course I tell people I shot it myself.

I have no other rooms, so I will leave you with the answer to the burning question you’ve all been asking yourselves: Has the Change of Environment Affected Cordelia’s Delicate Complexion?


No. Cordelia had to have a new mug as a result of the move, because I wanted to use the other one, but she is taking to it nicely. However, I must remember to dust her head more often.