June 19, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

It’s The Little Things: A Giraffe Hook

I first wrote about The Raja Hook way back in March. And then I waited. I knew I could be patient enough for a sale price. But then Emily Henderson created a beautiful office space a few weeks ago and posted it on her blog. And guess who was the star? That’s right. The sweet giraffe hook.

I knew after that, he would probably be selling quickly.

So, I scooped him up and got a 20% off adjustment on him (during the home promotion at Anthropologie last week).

We finally got him hung up in our hallway yesterday. I love this little vignette near him.

The tray and vase are Polish pottery and were gifts from my sweet grandmother (I am from Polish descent on my grandfather’s side). I would be devastated if anything ever happened to them. The elephant was a gift from my friend. The little toad with the stick in his mouth was a toy my father brought back from Bali when my son was two. The chest was from Target’s global line many years ago. It was a great buy at $30, but I would love to replace it with a true antique one day.

My husband did have to punch two holes in the back of the hook because he used screws instead of nails to have it flush to the wall. I like screws because the hook is going to be a bit heavy with his neck draped in necklaces and I am not sure traditional nails would support that weight.

Of course, he had to have a gnome friend to keep him company. I wonder what he is whispering in his ear?

Or maybe I don’t want to know.

It’s the little things: a sweet practical hook. It is functional and fun. It is fun-ctional.

I think this hook would look cool in a great many settings. The hook also comes in an elephant shape. I might have to get that one on sale, because I love the green stripe on it.

Adorable in a nursery. Whimsical in an office. Practical as a bra hanger in the laundry room. The possibilities for this little guy are endless. Let’s stop at bras, though.

Do you have a fun-ctional piece in your home? What is it? My giraffe might need a mate.

P.S. Did you see that we hung up my daughter’s burlap art? I wrote about the dilemma of where to hang those pieces here. I thought this could be a small update, too. It is a happy accident that the burlap color and texture in the paintings play off the giraffe hook in a nice harmony. The light switch plate also has a neat texture of nubby linen and completes my need of threes in the space.

*These pictures were edited using the app Afterlife’s Finn filter to add a bit more light into the hallway.

Art resources:
The rabbit painting is by Gloria Muriel.
Lakshmi is by Gloria Muriel.
The small bird is by Christina Loraine.
The small Boxer is by Nichole Leavy.
The vineyard drawing is by my daughter at age 9.
Burlap drawings are by my daughter at age 14.

I shared this on Cozy Little House.

And Savvy Southern Style.

And My Romantic Home.

June 18, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Mama’s Fish House

Whilst in Maui, we decided one day to take a drive to eat lunch at Maui’s most famous of restaurants, Mama’s Fish House. I had avoided it the previous year, because I thought that it was located many hours from our hotel. But in reality, or to put it more bluntly, if I was smart enough to actually know how to look at and read a map, I would know it was a mere thirty five minutes away. That run-on sentence took longer to write than it took to drive there.

In truth, I also wanted to go there because a reviewer of the restaurant, in an attempt to write something negative, declared it was like Disneyland. How soon after reading those words did I decide to go there? Faster than it took to write this word: immediately.

I wore my Anthropologie Songbird Skirt and an older black tee. The shoes are Anthropologie’s Almanac Sandals.

I hope it goes without saying that I would not be writing this post if the food had not been phenomenal. Because it was. It was honestly the best meal I have ever had. We eat one big meal out a day while on vacation and the rest of the meals we either make in our hotel room or catch a quick cheap bite somewhere.

This particular lunch was expensive, but food in Maui is expensive. For example, I grabbed three bags of Hostess Donettes at the grocery store and they were almost $17. They would have been $6 at home. How soon after reading that purchase are you discrediting that I know good food? Somewhere between the word “immediately” and a long run-on sentence, I bet. But trust me.

We had eaten one of the worst meals I have ever had at a different fish house in Maui and the prices were very similar. That made us appreciate Mama’s all the more.

Their poppy bread was delicious.

They brought out a small noodle appetizer compliments of the chef. I will be spending my whole summer trying to replicate it. It was one of the best things I have ever had. Here is what I know it had: cilantro, noodles, carrots, cabbage, lime, and if I were to guess, I would say mirin, fish sauce and sesame oil. I cannot wait to experiment with this. We all scraped our plates (’cause we’re fancy) clean. And look at the cute little fork they served with it. And being the ~~awesome and super sophisticated~~ mother that I am, I let my son eat his entree with that little fork, too.

Blame that decision on the best drink I have ever had. In my life. It is called “The Relaxer.” I drank two of these and this is another thing I will be recreating at home.

The menu changes daily as the fish is caught and it features the fisherman/woman’s name who caught the fish. How cool is that?

We all tried a different fish dish. My family loves fish. We ate fish every day while we were in Maui. Everyone’s favorite fish was the dish I chose. It was a trio of three white fish. And it had Thai curry sauce (the chefs are from Thailand).

The restaurant is also known for their Lilikoi Creme Brûlée. It was on the show, “The Best Thing I Ever Ate.” This was the one thing I did not care for. I like passion fruit and I like creme brûlée. But together? Not so much. It was definitely not bad. Just not my favorite.

I am the only one of us that felt this way. The rest of my family liked it.

We noticed as we were leaving that my son’s napkin remained untouched throughout the meal.

“You didn’t use your napkin?” I asked slightly horrified. I say slightly, because by this time, I had all ready let him eat lunch with a tiny fork and had indulged in two Relaxers. Manners were a moot point at this stage.

“I didn’t want to ruin it. It looks so pretty,” was his reply.

I wish he felt the same way about his pants. But he is right. The napkin was pretty. I suppose it was a fair sacrifice.

We went outside for more pictures. The little restaurant is on a small quaint white sand beach.

I loved the curve of the palm trees.

Have you ever eaten somewhere that you would take a trip again, just to return to it?

We have decided we must return to Maui if only to eat here again. It was amazing. And the service was fantastic, too. This was definitely a highlight of our trip. How long do you think it would take to travel there from my house? The map is saying something crazy, like seven hours (and that involves air travel). I am choosing to be believe that is simply incorrect.

Now, if you will excuse me, I’m off to go eat a Donette (not to be confused with a “donut”. I did not earn my fancy palate for nothin’).

April 20, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Poor Easter Bunny

Happy Easter! (If you celebrate. If not, Happy Sunday!)

I think the big question here is, did the Easter Bunny make it to our house, on time, this year?

Yes, this is an actual question in our household.

Folks, he’s been late before.

I know!

What?!

Don’t look at me!

I can’t control a giant bunny!

And, as I have explained to my children, Santa is spoiled. There. I said it.

Well, he is!

He has a troop of little ~~creep creatures~~ elves doing all of his work for him. A team of reindeer to cart his belly full of jelly (no judgement here. I have one, too. Just replace jelly with wine, and we are practically the same person) around the entire world.

And, let’s not forget his biggest luxury.

His sleigh.

Does the poor Easter Bunny have any of that?

No!

He just has to keep hoppin’ along.

All by himself.

Delivering eggs.

Yes. Eggs. Bunnies and eggs go together like… My belly and jelly… I am sure he is just as confused as we are. I mean, the fellow must be a wee bit out of sorts.

Confused, if you will.

So, it’s no wonder that sometimes he is a day… Or two… late to some of our houses.

Who can blame the guy?

Maybe he stopped and took a nap. The urge does run in his family. We’ve all read about his famous whiny little cousin in “The Tortoise And The Hare.”

And his Uncle (incidentally not the father of “The Hare” above), The March Hare from “Alice in Wonderland.”

That dude always thinks it’s tea time.

In that very same story, his Great Grandfather, The White Rabbit, almost ruins everything with his messed up pocket watch, and his silly little excuse of a chant, “I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!”

Can we all see the connection here?

It could have carried over into The Easter Bunny’s genes.

I mean, why not?

His whole entire family of rabbits have some seriously poor time management skills.

Let’s cut the giant dude some slack.

I know I will.

Poor Easter Bunny.

January 23, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

It’s The Little Things: A Funny Spider Story

I had a post about a product half-written for my Littlest Things weekly post. I kept trying to sit down and finish it, but after yesterday’s post, my heart just felt sad. And whenever that happens, all I want to do is laugh. And the best way I can think of laughing is to poke fun at myself. So I am going to toss all logic out the window and just share a funny thing that happened to me a couple of weeks ago.

First, you might need the backstory if you are new here. The short version is, I don’t kill Daddy Long Leg Spiders in my house. It is a ~~craziness~~ tradition passed down from my grandmother to my mother to me (although she recently told me she has begun to clear them out. Traitor). My husband goes along with it. In fact, he is the wrangler of the spiders. He moves them from spot to spot. With his barehands. Yep, he is a regular old ~~enabler~~ ~~Cow~~Spiderboy.

Second, my husband and I take baths together. This is the part where my children run through the house screaming and crying over too much sharing. But we do. In a completely platonic way. It is the best time to unwind and talk over our day. And we are guaranteed that we will not be interrupted.

Okay. Now that both of those disturbing and freaky facts are out of the way, we can finally begin:

My husband and I were taking a bath. We were conversing. And everything seemed to be going smoothly.

But halfway through the bath, my husband looked at me and a horrified expression broke out across his face. He was staring at the top of my head. There obviously was something on it.

I knew.

I knew that I was going to die.

“WHAT IS IT?!” I immediately screamed. Because panicking is what I do best.

Instead of answering my question, my husband gave me these instructions, “Don’t. Move.”

So, what would you do?

Would you sit there calmly not knowing what was on your head? Would you wait for an explanation?

Or would you do what I did and lose your mind?

I shrieked, “IS IT A BLACK WIDOW?!”

You are probably wondering why I would immediately jump to Black Widow. And I am going to have to answer, I have no flipping idea. No, we do not have an infestation of Black Widows… At our house. Yes, we do have an infestation of crazy… In our minds.

No reply.

“IS. IT. A. BLACK. WIDOW???!!!

Still no reply.

So, at this point I know. I know I have a black widow on my head and it is going to bite me. And I am going to die. My head all bloated and disfigured in the bathtub. My naked body wrinkled and cold waiting for the coroner to come.

I began to thrash and scream. I was trying to drown the black widow in the bathtub. If I was going to be humiliated, I was taking the little sucker down with me.

My husband quickly jumped out of the bathtub. He calmly told me to stop moving around.

“AM I DEAD?! DID IT BITE ME?!” I managed to scream in between dunking my head over and over into the water. Water was sloshing everywhere. My head was getting banged against the faucet. I am a treat. A downright gift to marriage.

All of a sudden my husband grabbed my legs from outside the bathtub. Then he dragged me feet first and yanked me onto the cold tile floor.

First, can I tell you how much that hurt? My back will never be the same.

I was sobbing.

And let’s pause for a moment and reflect on the fact that this scenario is happening in the buff.

You’re welcome.

I couldn’t feel where I had been injected, but I knew my head must be the size of a watermelon. “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE? CALL 9-1-1! MAYBE THEY CAN GIVE ME AN ANTIDOTE!”

My husband was stoically quiet.

“WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING ME? I’M DEAD! CALL 9-1-1!”

Still ignoring me. Still quiet. He was staring into the churning water that had just moments before been a peaceful sanctuary.

“Is it dead?” I managed to mutter in-between rocking myself on the hard floor.

I wiped my eyes and peered into the bathtub. I couldn’t find the Black Widow.

I didn’t see anything.

“Where is it?”

Then another horrifying thought occurred to me and I lurched to my wobbly feet. “IS IT STILL ON ME? OH MY GOD! GET IT!”

My husband was in a quiet ponder. He just pointed to a tiny shape in the bathtub. It looked like a small wadded up ball of string.

“It’s right there.”

“That’s the Black Widow?!”

It sure didn’t look like one.

My husband sighed. “There was no Black Widow. It was just a Daddy Long Legs.”

If one month ago, you felt the Earth tilt on its orbit, shudder, and then keep on spinning, please know that that was just my emotions catching up with my brain. Or maybe the following syllable being screeched. “WHAT?!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT? You know I’m not scared of Daddy Long Legs!” I paused. “And why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t a black widow?”

My husband looked resigned as he scooped the tragic fellow of my tale from the tub. “You didn’t give me a chance. You just started freaking out.”

“Well, you made me freak out when you wouldn’t answer me.”

It was at this point my back that had been dragged across the side of the bathtub began to throb. “And my back! Why did you drag me out of the bathtub?”

“I thought you were going to drown yourself. You should have seen it. You were flailing. You were going to get hurt.”

I rubbed my back, “Yea. Well. Next time, just say it’s a Daddy Long Legs. Then none of this would have happened.”

I said, “next time,” because it’s us. There will always be a next time.

I mean with as many Daddy Long Legs I keep in my house, it was only a matter of time before one made it into a fashion post. Poor fellow. All he wanted to be was a hat. I prefer them much better when they are just pretending to be art on the wall.

I’m quite terrified some of them are going to gather together and make me a necklace.

Hey! I’m just like Cinderella.

Only without a fairy godmother.

Or a glass slipper.

Although, I do have plenty of chores to do. And creatures at my beck-in-call.

Let’s just hope I never get invited to a ball.

I shudder to think what those spiders will come up with as a dress.

Besides, I don’t think my poor ~~prince~~ husband or my back can take any more fashion assistance from our eight-legged guests.

It’s the little things: a funny story coming from terror. Or learning something new about yourself.

Have you had a similar thing happen to you? Do you kill the spiders in your home? Did you learn any life lessons this week?

My husband has. He has definitely learned some valuable lessons from all of this.

1. He married a crazy person.

2. That crazy person wants to keep spiders all over the house.

3. When one of those spiders crawls onto her she will immediately freak out and attempt a drowning suicide.

4. Relaxing baths should just be called baths around here.

5. He should have been a cowboy.

Gnome Lover

Stumbling through life while still having fun

house

It’s The Little Things: A Giraffe Hook

Mama’s Fish House

Poor Easter Bunny

It’s The Little Things: A Funny Spider Story