Tag-Archive for » Turning domestic goddess «

We recently replaced our toilet seat.  There wasn’t much wrong with the old one, to be honest.  It was sturdy.  It did the job required of it.

Except for one thing: the hinges.  Oh dear God, the hinges.  There were metal screws holding the hinges together.  It got to the point where I didn’t know what was rusty water and what was, well, pee.  Or a combination of the two.  Being the only woman in the house, I knew the aim problem was not mine.  JD still uses a potty shaped like a frog.  So somehow, these screws and pieces were getting damp and nasty.

Read more on The Toilet Seat…

I was talking with my sister recently, and she commented “we sure do know how to make some work for ourselves, don’t we?”  I laughed at the time, but that phrase haunted me for a few weeks.

Read more on Berry Good Times…

I know we live in a youth obsessed culture, and it never fails to amaze me.  Youth doesn’t have much to offer but energy, and well, youth.  Sure, once we start waking up feeling hungover even though we never drank a drop of alcohol we start to miss what we have lost.  The ability to eat what we want, wear what we want, be idiots, and pretty much always feel good.  Definite perks, right?

Read more on I See Old People…

I will always champion the single parents and military spouses.  I really do not think I am made of the material they are to handle the enormous task of parenting on my own.  While my own situation is not ideal, with my husband working second shift and every weekend, we have managed to strike up some bargains that make it seem a bit more equitable, playing on the other’s likes and dislikes.

Read more on Taking It By Storm…

There’s something to be said about owning a house. For many years, due to my husband’s job, we lived in furnished apartments on college campuses. Some were nice and some were…er..not so nice. Drop-ceilings, walk-in showers (reminiscent of an 80′s gym locker room) and lack of closet and cabinets were like an HGTV reality show challenge. Every time we moved (which was about every two years), I thought Vern Yip was going to appear, cock his head to the side and say, “So, how are you going to make this space yours?”

Read more on Bill Goldberg, Eat Your Heart Out…in October…