ZuZu has run amuck

OI feel I should preface this by telling you that I’m running a rather high fever at the moment, and may or may not say something I regret in the words that are to follow. Perhaps I would be wise to place a disclaimer of some sort on this, but my head is so foggy I can’t quite recall what that word even means.

My body is exhausted after hours…days? (I don’t remember) of shivering, aching, and lying in bed, while my mind remains alive and well, requiring some means of expression and release, lest I go mad. I have nothing very important to say, which only adds to the potential horror of me saying something reckless and/or appalling.

Someone stop me.

Unfortunately no one is here at the moment, save my dogs, so it’s just you and me, my friend.  You get to see what the world would be like with me running amuck without my wits about me. It’s like It’s a Wonderful Life Part Two, where ZuZu gets loose with her fever, stopping at nothing until she finds someone who will paste her broken flower, even if it means negotiating with mean old Mr Potter.

Zsu-Zsus-room-1-300x225

“I want to give my flower a drink!”

Hmm, yes, oh so innocent. Just look at that face.  I’m sure I said those exact words to my daddy when I was a child, in an attempt to escape the confines of my bed on several occasions.

That, and the frequent claim that there were tigers living in our backyard.

Oooh, I love this song.  If I were writing this to you in real-time, and you were here beside me (as I often pretend you are) I would urge you to pull up a chair and enjoy it with me.  Seeing that this sort of magic only exists in my overly utopian mind (at least in this world) I’ll share it with you via youtube instead.  Terribly prosaic, I know, but I’m failing to construe any means of  getting you over here at the moment.  The song is called  Welcome Home by Radical Face. I love the wind chimes at the beginning, this song moves me.

Over Christmas break I decided to re-do my bathroom and mix up my kitchen a bit, just for kicks. I tend to do this once a year or so, though I didn’t realize it until my sister pointed it out the other day.  There are just too many beautiful things you can do with a home to only try one for your time in it.  T’would be a shame.  I don’t generally even spend much money (if any) on it either. Just a tweak and there, and voilà.

 Here is a bit of the recent damage

Goober always insists on making an appearance. I was still working on things when I took this one,
Goober always insists on making an appearance. I was still working on things when I took this one

IMG_2218

IMG_2223

IMG_2222

And onto the kitchen.
And onto the kitchen.

IMG_2226

IMG_2224

I found the little hooks in this last shot from World Market for 1.99 a piece.  They were all mixed up in this big bin on the bottom shelf where it was rather difficult to sort them out.

So I end up sitting cross-legged on the floor of the store, pulling out the hooks I find most charming whilst humming to myself and lining up all the colors I can find.  There I sit, as happy as can be, feeling rather like a kid going through a treasure chest, when I look up I see some guy grinning at me.

Busted

I guess my red hoodie doesn’t make me as invisible as I’d hoped and suddenly realize I’ve been sitting there for quite some time, and perhaps humming a little more audibly than I thought. Well, too late to save face now.  Yes, yes I am sitting here like a child looking through a toy box, I’m glad to have made you smile.  So, I just grin right back at him, pull the hood over my head and continue my search upon the floor.

I highly recommend this sort of thing, it’s terribly theraputic.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s