Snarky's got a camera full of color, but hasn't had the time (or the energy) to download them for y'all. Hopefully she'll be able to snatch a moment's respite to faithfully record and report the process of The Snarks stamping their sign of ownership all over the walls of this house tonight. Maybe.
In the meantime, Snarky just wants to take a moment to share her newfound, revitalized love for violets. She bought a few to transplant into a strawberry pot from the local multi-culti pan-Asian megalomart. They've been acclamating by the kitchen sink (along with a fancy jade plant and six organic basil seedlings purchased from a redheaded entrepreneurial tweenager with charming salesmanship) and provided a very uplifting, very grounding whiff of goodness every time Snarky and The Mister bellied up to the sink to rinse out paintbrushes and pans.
She can't remember the last time a little handful of flowers has brought her so much peace and joy and contentment and hope. She can almost feel the chemistry of her brain rearranging to hardwire the smell of violets and fresh latex paint directly into her idea of this house that is slowly evolving into their home.
This makes her happy beyond the thrill of new homeownership. Most of her scent memories come from pre-adult times. She has always hoped to experience equally intense moments now that she can appreciate them more fully. (She has a fairly depressing theory about the relative impact of finite periods of "important" time in inverse proportion to the longevity of the subject experiencing those periods of "memorable" time. Anything that disproves this theory is welcomed warmly and with much fanfare.)
So yes. Tonight, possibly pictures of retina searing colors. If not that, than definitely the long and somewhat interesting tale of the fancy schmancy piece of exercise equipment The Snarks purchased over the weekend.
Edited to add: OK, so the tie back to BPAL is kind of tenuous at best. I meant to say that I am now going to re-evaluate my "to try" list to include just about everything with violet in it. Then I got sidetracked... and hell, tangents happen, y'know?
Snarky's still in that purgatorial "will they or won't they?" place, but the expected immediate dismissal of the Snark's addendum to their offer on the house did not happen.
So they've entered a counter-counter-offer suggesting a credit for all the little fixes they listed on the addendum.
She hasn't dared to look at the 70+ photos she took of the house during the home inspection. She's been trying to let go already of all the future days she was projecting into all those fanciful rooms.
It didn't help that Snarky had the whole day off to wallow and sulk. She did manage to get out for a walk to the library (and, ahem, the LUSH store) but now she's back at home with an hour to burn before The Mister makes it home.
Must. Be. Strong. Don't look at the pictures!
She's going to go and knit in a corner.
