Remember Contact Paper?

On one of my sleepless nights, I was laying awake thinking about other ways I could funkify my cuisine at the Clocktower Cottage. For some crazy reason Contact Paper popped into my head. So the next day I googled "retro Contact Paper" and, who knew, not only do they still make the stuff, it's cute, colorful and a happening commodity on the Etsy site.

I brought a roll to Duras and, when I could not sleep at 12:30 a.m. I went downstairs and lined some drawers.

Upping the cuteness factor

Just sitting here smiling . . .

Moody weather, happy me

The dark-bottomed clouds are hanging around today, but there's still plenty of sun to cast shadows and create a mood.

I left my house for an hour or so this afternoon for a little exercise and enjoyed seeing familiar places. Faces too, as I popped in on Rosalind and Louise. Then I went to the Cafe de la Paix to have a glass of rose' and read the newspaper outside. It's just a very French way to spend a nice afternoon.

In the morning I began painting the island  cabinets. After lunch and my walk, I went back and put a second coat on everything. On Friday I hope to wax it all and put on the new cabinet hardware. If I meet  my goal, I will treat myself to a trip to Maisons du Monde tomorrow afternoon for some new things to help up the cuteness factor.

 

Fun with skirts!

It's my first day on the job on Rue Traversiere and though I wanted to really hit the ground running today, my jetlagged body is telling me to take it easy. So I chose some simple projects with instant gratification.

First I got out the iron, which is ironic because the one at home barely sees the light of day, and I pressed the packaged slipcovers I brought.

Here's the dinosaur chenille ottoman before:

And after:

Now the wood chair in the bedroom:

And looking dramatic in its corner:

Finally, I still didn't want to put the iron away, so I decided to use it and a little fusible tape to add skirts to the directors' chairs. Voila!

J'attends mon vol

Waiting. In lines. For a plane. For a call. Just waiting.

I am incredibly good at waiting. In fact, and this may sound a little nutty, I like waiting.

In fact, when I have a chance to choose which line to stand in, on the outside it would appear that I always choose wrong as I manage to find the most snail-paced, interminable line. It doesn't bother me one bit. There's an art to waiting and it combines a desire to breathe deeply then explore the minutia of one's immediate surroundings. Waiting offers unexpected time to think, to solve problems. Sometimes, waiting allows me to listen in on private conversations, to step for a brief moment into others' shoes. Waiting in line at the grocery store allows me to practice math in my head as I calculate carb or calorie counts in other shopping carts. Also to read headlines in tabloid mags I wouldn't be caught reading. Waiting in line in an airport gives me a chance to study fashionable outfits, check out people's shoe choices, then take a look at myself and assess how I stand up those who I consider to be well put together. There are always valuable takeaways from waiting. I am waiting now.

With a new look, I'm on my way . . .

I've had an appointment for a haircut for weeks, but this morning I woke up with a compelling desire to rid myself of most of my hair. I sat in Rachel's chair and said "let's do something chic." And here I am--feeling Frencher by the minute. I think I need some statement earrings and some red lipstick to finish the look. On cold days, I can rock my black beret. Wow! It's been a long time since I've seen my neck!

Bag is packed. Ready to go. Next stop D-U-R-A-S! 

And Warren saves the day!

Julie the painter introduced me to her friend Warren, a carpenter, who has just performed some magic in my kitchen. For those of you who have read this blog before, you know that the countertop on the island was atrocious and poorly trimmed out to boot.

Here, once again is the old island:

And Ta-Da, the new improved one:

Way to go Warren, old chap!!