Fuck... Anyway,
My wife has some symptoms that are displayed by Mrs. Cumsteen. But she buys them and puts them in the basement, never to be seen again.
We bought a kickass rug at a rug making school while we were in Egypt a couple of weeks ago. She said she would like one...I said buy but.....then my normal question... "Where are you going to put it".
Then the normal response. "After we blah, blah, blah, blah renovate, HGTV, wood floor in room ABC, yada, yada.:"
Me: I'm not paying for rug just to stick it in the basement. We already have probably 5 rugs down there."
Her: OK. We will put it in the front room.
It gets delivered today......I will update at that point.
In the meantime, ABOVE are some windows that 'reportedly' came out of an old church in Port St. Joe. She found them in an antique shop down there.
I had to wrap them and stuff them in my kayaks to get them home. Since then (about 8 years ago) they have yet to see the light of day...or a paint scraper.
There are MANY more of these such items in the basement and garage. (multiple tables/chairs, MULTIPLE framed pictures of all sizes, knick-knacks and paddy-whacks of all shapes and sizes, beds and bed frames, book shelves and other large bedroom furniture. I used to not give a shit, but fuck me...I can barely more around the upstairs of our house because of all the furniture.....the basement? No fucking way. I stay out of that part.
But I have a shot glass with guitar picks on my night stand? "That doesn't fit the design I'm going for". I busted out laughing, then fell over a new table that just appeared.
In the meantime, I'll be huffing a can or two of that Duster in the picture above