Jen on the Edge

Since y’all got to see the fantasy version of the Jenworld living room yesterday, I think it’s only fair you get to see reality.

This is what my living room looked like on Friday AFTER I spent ten minutes a crapload of time on Thursday cleaning it for the the Open House photos.

Apparently my children have decided to homeschool their dolls.

Even though I knew roughly how many dolls we have accumulated over the years, I had no freaking CLUE how many that really was. Enough to break the dolls into different reading groups, based on ability. I am not making this up.

According to my girls, here’s the advanced reading group:

So the good thing is, all the American Girl dolls made it into the gifted/talented group. And that, my friends is what $100 per little plastic head will buy you — intelligence and a better education.

Here’s the lower reading group:

So, the lower reading group is comprised of two Cabbage Dolls, one old china doll, and a doll that Graceful made out of duct tape (blue chair on left). Yes, Graceful has discovered the joys of duct tape creations, but that’s a discussion for another time.

And here’s the preschool:

So, mostly baby dolls, plus another duct tape doll. I think that pink dress goes so nicely with its silvery gray face.

The commute to the living room was long and arduous — all those stairs to come down from the bedrooms. Some dolls opted for alternate transportation:

And, at the back of the living room, the biggest doll of all:

Pete had some fun with the cello case on Thursday night after the rest of us went to bed. I was really not kidding when I worried about the alternate uses my children would find for the cello. It turns out my husband is the biggest kid of all.

I share all of this with you all in the spirit of honesty. You saw my living room clean and now you’re seeing it at about the worst it could possibly be. There’s a part of me that’s amused by how darn cute this is. And then there’s the rest of me that almost explodes from the stress of having such an ungodly mess all around me in my favorite room.

School ended at lunchtime on Friday, as Elegant had camp in the afternoon. Since then, school has not resumed. If it doesn’t resume on Saturday, the teachers will be expected to take their students on a field trip to the bedrooms upstairs. A long, extended, endless field trip.

And then hopefully my favorite room of the house will be neat and tidy again.  Even if only for five minutes.

Elegant went to drama camp this week at a little local theatre that focuses on puppetry and dramatic arts for children.  She attended a puppet camp there last year and had a terrific time, so it was a no-brainer to sign her up again.

This week’s camp was Fairy Tale Theatre. Elegant spent the week learning about fairy tales and, on Friday, the group performed short plays they had written themselves.

Here’s Elegant before she went in:

She had to wear all black so that she’d blend in when doing the puppets. Even though this isn’t El’s normal look, she totally rocked it. I was getting an Audrey Hepburn vibe with the black leggings and ballet slippers. Her little purse is trimmed in green pom poms and has El’s monogram on the other side in hot pink. Yep, that’s my girl — all about the accessories — and her snack traveled to camp in style every day.

(A note to my sister-in-law:  Yes, that’s one of your shirts.)

Elegant was a yellow fairy princess in the play (duh). Unfortunately, I couldn’t use a flash during the show, so the photos are a bit dark. Oh, and they’re blurry due to all the twirling and spinning the yellow fairy princess did when she entered the stage.

Yeah, she’s rockin’ that tiara.

So here’s the thing about Elegant: I talk here often about her amazing energy levels and her charismatic personality, but the reality is that she can be a bit shy at times and takes a few minutes to warm up to new acquaintances. She also gets stage fright. She likes the arts and loves plays and wearing a costume, but she doesn’t actually like being in front of a crowd. So that photo above is just about the only time she smiled during the show.

Don’t believe me? Here she is at the end when the actors took a bow:

Mmm, not looking so happy there.

But when I asked her about it afterward, she swore she had a great time and I believe her.

Elegant is already asking to go to drama camp again next year and I’m sure we’ll sign her up. Eventually, she’ll either get over her stage fright or start doing more behind-the-scenes work. I can absolutely see her focusing on costumes, can’t you?

Mrs. G. is hosting an Open House over at Derfwad Manor. She said, “Reader, where is the heart of your home? What room in your house makes you breathe easier — makes you feel genuinely content?”

For me, that’s a no-brainer. The living room is the heart of Jenworld. This is where I go when I need a break, when I want to relax, when I want to be with my family, and so many other times. This is where my sick children recuperate — we have a leather sofa, which is amazingly durable and the barf comes off *just like that*. Every evening, at least two or three of us pile on the sofa and fight for the most comfortable spot spend time together as a family.

There are windows on three sides of the Jenworld living room — south, west, and north — and the light is amazing, which is what sold me on the house when we first looked at it nine years ago.

This is the view when you walk in:

afternoon light, with the cello case gleaming in the distance

Yes, My Precious is pretty much the first thing you notice. Duh. And you know you love my rug, which is FLOR.

Things are tidier than usual, as I didn’t want you to realize think that we’re filthy beasts, but this is how I’d like things to look all the time and not just when the children and the husband aren’t around.

Normally, the coffee table is heaped with books, magazines, and newspapers. I make no excuses for the reading fools who live in Jenworld. Here’s what’s on the coffee table right now:

Anyone want to guess where we’re going in August and how we’re getting there? Yeah, THAT is going to be a long ride. Luckily, Josie and Alison and hopefully Heidi will be waiting for us when we get there. And, the Trip Fairy has already started compiling a big-ass pile of books and other fun stuff for the long-ass drive northward.

Here’s the view from the back of the room. Just to the left of the sofa is the doorway to the kitchen.

You would not believe how comfortable that sofa is. It’s like sleeping on clouds, which I know because I have napped on it approximately eleventy squillion times. I am not kidding. I try to grab a ten minute catnap every day, except days that end in Y, when I go for a much longer snooze. We’ve had the sofa for seven years, so you can do the math. (I won’t, however, because we all know how much I hate numbers.)

Oh, and has any eagle-eyed person noticed that there is a sleek, cool, modern sconce on the left side of the sofa but a lame, clunky, shiteous, faux Colonial lamp on the other side? (Yes, Pete, I am casting aspersions on your lamp.) We bought a PAIR of MATCHING sleek, cool, modern sconces SIX MONTHS AGO after having discussed said purchase for SIX MONTHS beforehand. When we got them home, someone who doesn’t like change decided that HE wanted to stick with the lame, clunky, shiteous, faux Colonial lamp, supposedly because the light is better. Someone else decided that SHE wanted the sleek, cool, modern sconce on her side of the sofa and that light is superior to the light on the other side. The other sleek, cool, modern sconce is still in its box, collecting dust, until someone decides to hang it up on approximately the 12th of Never. Or, until we move in eight months. Whichever comes first.

(Not that I’m irritated about this or anything.)

(Okay, I am. A bit.)

(I’m going to ask the builder to hardwire our living room lighting, including some sconces, BEFORE we even move in and then the lame, clunky, shiteous, faux Colonial lamp is going bye bye. I’ll have to resist the urge to stomple it to smithereens in order to ensure it’s never coming back to haunt me.)

As you can see, Jenworld is a place with mostly modern furniture and clean lines. I am on the record as having recently insulted Shabby Chic, which is not to say I would hate it in your house. Okay, I lie. Too much of it would make me cringe and want to defenestrate rose-festooned pillows and crystal-laden lights. But it’s your space and you can decorate however you want. But, if you ever want to toss the Shabby Shit out the window and then go modern, call me, I’ll be there to help and offer support. I’ll even help you set fire to some white distressed wood side tables. Because I’m a good friend like that.

I know that modern interior design is not everyone’s cup of tea. I get that, really, I do. Modern can be cold and uncomfortable, but not in Jenworld. Ours is more of a mix of Cottage Living and Dwell, which sounds odd, but it really works. Great style and comfort are not mutually exclusive.

In the new house, the dimensions of the living room are nearly identical to the one we have now. It’s what works for us and I can already tell you how I’m going to arrange the furniture. I’m looking forward to many naps, lots of reading, and even more hours of family time. The new living room will have ginormous windows on three sides, so I’ll be able to look outside at my little domain and marvel at all that is right in Jenworld.

If you’re interested, I posted another house update at EconoMod. (And I should mention that I’ve written so much lately and have so many drafts in various stages that, as I was writing that last sentence, I actually couldn’t remember what it was that I had just posted.)

Also, if you want to hear about my Raccoon Eyes, you should read this post at Eco Women. And, today’s the last day to enter the contest at Eco Women.

And now I’m off to clean my living room and take photos for tomorrow’s Open House at Derfwad Manor.

For some reason, I have been getting lots and lots and lots and LOTS of Nigerian email scams. They’re never exactly the same, but most are highly entertaining. I was especially amused by the following and these are my thoughts almost exactly as they tumbled forth the first time I read this:

Dear beloved,

["Beloved"?!?! Um, that's a bit personal, don't you think? Even my husband doesn't call me beloved. But maybe he should.]

I am Mrs. Rubina Salahuddin a citizen of Kuwait but currently residing in the United Kingdom. [Rule Britannia!] I was married to Late Farooq Salahuddin of blessed memory who was an oil explorer in Kuwait and Angola for twelve years before he died in the year 2000. We were married for twelve years without a child; he died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days. [Bummer.] Since his death I too have been battling with both Cancer and fibroid problems. [Double bummer.] When my late Husband was alive he deposited a substantial amount of money worth US $8.5Million with a bank in the United Kingdom which I inherited after his death. [A sugar daddy is a good thing indeed.]

Recently, my doctor told me that I have only 2 month to live due to my ailment. [Oh, terribly sorry about that.] Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to either a charity/orphanage home or devoted God fearing individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct therein. I want this organization or individual to use this money in all sincerity to fund charity homes (motherless homes), orphanages, and widows. [Yeah, you definitely want sincereity while spending the Late Farooq Salahuddin's money.] I took this decision because I do not have any child that will inherit this money and my husbands relatives are into radical organization [What's that? Suddenly completely rearranging the pantry?] and I do not want a situation where this money will be used in an unholy manner [Such as funding hookers and meth?], hence the reasons for this bold decision. [I have an outstanding idea. What if *I* were to manage this money for you?]

Please, pray for me to recover as your prayers will go a long way in uplifting my spirit. [Um, if your doctor says you have only two months, I'm pretty sure any good karma I send your way won't keep you alive. Could I send you flowers instead or maybe some art made by one of my children?]

I do not need any telephone communication in this regard [That's good; I prefer email myself.] because of my health condition which has seriously affected my speech and also because of the presence of my husbands relatives around me always. [Yeah, money-grubbing hangers-on can be a real drag, can't they? I promise not to hang around or disturb you in any way.] I do not want them to know about this development. [Oh, I can keep a secret, I promise. It's just a matter of whether or not your relatives will notice my sudden frenzy of shopping.] As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you further directives on what to do and how to go about actualizing this project. I will also instruct my lawyer to file an application on your behalf to the bank where the funds were deposited for the transfer of the money to you for this purpose.  [Cash, please, and I'd like it in small unmarked bills.  Oh wait, that's for when I write ransom notes...]

I want you to always pray for me. [Always? How long is always? Is this a binding agreement?] Any delay in your reply will give room in sourcing for an organization or a devoted Individual for this same purpose. [Um, I think Babblefish was messing with you on this part of the translation.]

Until I hear from you by email; my dreams will rest squarely on your shoulders. [So. Much. Pressure. I just can't take it.] Please send your reply to my yahoomail id <rubina.salahuddin00l@yahoo.it>

Remain blessed, [Right back atcha!]

Mrs. Rubina Salahuddin.

I don’t know if y’all have noticed it or not, but Jenworld is a pretty casual place.

We’re not fancy people with fancy tastes.

We rarely dress up and much prefer our casual clothes — except Elegant, of course.

And, we are classic rock people, most definitely not opera or orchestra people.

Or so I thought.

Graceful had her first cello lesson yesterday.

It had never occurred to Pete or me to put the girls in music lessons. Graceful, on the other hand, had different plans. In her gang of friends, she is unique in that she is, as far as I know, the only one who doesn’t play the piano, the violin, or the cello. Yes, there is one particular friend who plays the cello and I place Graceful’s interest in the instrument right at this friend’s feet. The friend’s family is very musical and they have a music room, complete with a variety of stringed instruments. They don’t have a cello; they have a few. As I understand it, whenever Graceful goes over to this friend’s house to play, they invariably spend a few minutes fiddling around (so to speak) on the cellos. The friend’s mother is a musician and it is she who will be instructing my daughter on how to sound like Yo Yo Ma.

Graceful had her first lesson yesterday and now there is a cello in my living room.

This week, Graceful’s focus is pizzicato — plucking. So, no bow work yet. She can pluck the first half of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and I’m really hoping she learns the rest next week so that we can have some closure during her daily practice sessions.

During yesterday’s lesson, Graceful also learned how to take care of the cello, including exactly how to put it away and how it should be stored. I was also instructed and now I’m feeling slightly paranoid that we’re going to ruin this fine wooden instrument.   So I’m contemplating keeping the cello in a vault that can only be unlocked with my retina scan and thumbprint.

I should probably also mention to the girls that the cello is not to be used as a prop in any sort of doll game, nor is it ever to be used in their no-rules-all-contact version of lacrosse. One would think that this sort of instruction would be unnecessary, but you have to trust me when I tell you that it is.

Above all, I should tell you how very happy Graceful is to have started cello lessons. She’s becoming a musician, just like her friends. She’s learning something interesting. And, I swear I am not making this up, she is on her way to becoming a Renaissance Man Woman. Yes, she really wants to be well-learned and good at a variety of things and music is part of her plan.

And, she’s bringing a little class to Jenworld in the process. Perhaps I should start wearing something a little nicer than my favorite worn-out khakis all the time.

After much thought and consideration — or possibly just because it’s the whim of the moment — Elegant has decided upon her profession when she grows up. Because, you know, she’s seven and should probably get a jump on that. Well thank goodness the agonizing soul searching is over because…

[drum roll please]

She’s going to be a tattoo artist!

I have to admit that this is not the profession I envisioned for her, but if you think about it, this is a brilliant combination of El’s love of art and her huge love of personal adornment. Really, it’s the best of both worlds. And if anyone is going to invent sparkly tattoos, it’s going to be my girl.

I’m guessing that Elegant isn’t going to run some sort of skeevy tattoo parlor. Oh no, she’s going to have one of those cute little shops that’s like someone’s grandma’s cottage. Lots of florals and pretty things. Maybe she could call it the Pastel Palace. I’m guessing all this, because this is the look El skews toward already. If I’d support her habit, she’d do her room and pretty much every room of the house in Shabby Chic. (Over my dead body.)

(Please notice that I said “over my dead body” over Shabby Chic and not the future career in tattoos. I’m open-minded, but only to a point and that point is having my house look like a unicorn puked roses all over the place.)

*ahem*

Regaining focus…

It appears that Elegant will not be doing much trade in tattoos for the Harley crowd or Goths or anyone who doesn’t want PRETTY tattoos. She did some preliminary sketches in her summer journal and they include lots of stars, flowers, hearts, more stars, smiley faces, even more stars, a lamb, and two not-very-scary skull and crossbones. I’m really surprised she doesn’t have any kittens or rainbows. The best I can tell, Elegant is going to cater mostly to college girls who want a tasteful little flower on their shoulder blades or a possibly a butterfly on their ankles.

To make sure she really hones her craft, Elegant has been practicing on herself with gel pens and markers. Not Sharpies, however, thank goodness. She also has had her first customer, in the form of her older sister. Here’s how they negotiated the price for the tattoo:

E, “It will cost you one penny.”

G, “You know, even if you have a hundred customers, you’ll still only earn $1.”

E, “Okay then, ten cents.”

G, “So then you’ve made only $10.”

E, “One dollar?” [pause, while calculating] “That would be ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!”

[Jen's note: A veritable fortune indeed.]

Negotiations continued until the girls agreed on ten cents. Graceful went to her wallet and found only eight pennies, at which point Elegant dropped her price to one cent again and Graceful told her to “just keep the change.”

So I can’t tell you how delighted I am that Elegant has settled upon her career and can now focus on learning her craft. Given that this is the child whose skin is so sensitive that she can’t have her face painted at the fair or wear regular sunblock, I find it highly ironic that ink does not cause problems for her.

Now if only I’d let her paint her fingernails.

Updated to add: Pete left his first-ever comment to let me know that I should include the sign Elegant posted near her easel. This would be a sign I had not noticed for some very odd reason. Here it is:

Tattoos

1 cent 10 cents 8 cents Per tattoo unless messed up

if messed up, free

And, really, there’s nothing I can add to that.

In the midst of all the fun of giving stuff away, I totally forgot that I was a participant in another contest.  Vanessa needed a name for her bike and I won!  So you have to go see what the bike looks like and what SHE is named!

We have a winner!

Heidi of Viking Conquest posted the 5,000th comment here.

Honorable mention goes to the Guider, who commented (and hilariously so) 14 times in 30 hours, and my college roommate Nina who commented 9 times.

Here’s what Heidi said in the winning comment, “You gotta admire Guider’s persistence. I. Cannot. Compete!”

Wanna bet?

As it happens, this is the second contest Heidi has won here. The last one was the cookbook giveaway and here is what Heidi had to say about it. (That last part is totally gratuitous, but Heidi completely puffed up my ego.)

Whew, after all this excitement, I really need a nap.

… I put an update at the house blog.