Y and I have been in kind of fight recently. About a week ago, a piece of furniture appeared near the back curb of a house a few doors down from us. I consider myself something of a design aficionado (I read like, 3 design blogs y'all) and as soon as I saw said piece of furniture I told Y, we have to take this! It's mid century modern!
Well, Y was convinced that, because of its position a few feet back from the curb, that it wasn't actually trash. So I waited a week. It was still there, in the same spot. "Now will you help me carry it to our house?"
"It's not trash," Y said confidently. "The trash people haven't taken it, so it's not trash."
Weeks passed. More stuff started piling up on top of it. An old license plate. A tire.
Finally I took the tire off and dragged it into my garage, only slightly worried I was going to be arrested for stealing someone's alley nightstand. But now I want your help. Is this as cool as I think it is? Or am I mistaken and it's a piece of crap?
So Y got this pretty big honor at work that I'm not really supposed to tell you about, even though most of you won't care/get it anyway, and I'm feeling pretty proud of him. Because I hate vague-blogging, I'm going to give you a few multiple choice options to help you narrow down what it is. A) he successfully separated Siamese-octuplets; B) he performed the world's first head transplant, C) none of the above and this paragraph is as vague as it was at the beginning.
I wrote a guest post for Anne. You should click both on my post and then stay awhile checking out her blog -- she's one of my favorites! Also, this David Sedaris essay. (Because my silly guest post and that amazing article are clearly in the same category.) & as always, your friendly Sunday Currently hostess Lauren at Siddathornton -- she overhauled her whole blog this month just for you!