Thanksgiving

My favorite holiday. I just love Thanksgiving. Julia from "The World is my Oyster" has a fun thing on her blog (like that description? Thing. I can't figure out what to call it -- oh wait! Post. It's a "post" not a thing.)





Let's try that again... Julia from "The World is My Oyster" has a fun blog topic: Stuffing blanks instead of Turkey. Let's go:



1. My Thanksgiving plans this year will include hosting the family dinner -- my extended family and my aunt and cousins for the turkey dinner with all the fixings. Then turkey sandwiches several hours later when the rest of the cousins come from their first meal.


2. My favorite Thanksgiving was ... hard to narrow down to just one, really. It's my favorite holiday: family, great food, relaxing. Better even than Christmas in my book (except that on Christmas we have beef brisket, which I much prefer over turkey).



3. My signature Thanksgiving dish is Pritz Pie. It may not be spelled correctly, because it's a Dutch word. I once attempted to make a cheesecake that I'd found a recipe for in a magazine. Keep in mind that I don't cook. Ever, really. But for some reason I thought I'd give it a shot. Impress everybody. That. So. Didn't. Happen. I'm not exactly sure what I did wrong (besides attempt to spend time in the kitchen) but nobody would try it. Not even me. Finally my Aunt Coral caved and tried a bit. She promptly ran to the trash can and spit it out. Much laughing ensued and it ended up with the name Pritz (which I'm sure mean's tastes-like-shit in Dutch) Pie. I was so traumatized by the whole thing I haven't stepped foot in the kitchen since.



4. My favorite Thanksgiving food is my Aunt Coral's homemade stuffing. Yum, yum, yum. But generally speaking I like almost all of the TG side dishes. What a feast.



5. Thanksgiving free association! Stuffing... cranberry... pecan pie... Cheesecake Factory Pumpkin cheesecake... Chicago... cold... snow on Thanksgiving... playing bball outside on a warm TG with my cousins.



6. Thanksgiving is about family and food fest.

7. I am thankful for so many things, but family, friends, and good health top the list.

This is what my niece is making for decorations this year -- an apple turkey!Fatherhood site at About.com

I've been to the Thumb!

It's true, I've been to the thumb. This likely has no meaning for you if you're not from Michigan -- the mitten state. But if you are then you probably know just what I'm talking about. Rico and I went to a wedding this weekend in the THUMB of Michigan -- in Bad Axe. Hold up your left hand... then take your right hand and point a the middle right edge of your thumb nail. That's where we were for Danielle and Aaron's wedding.

This is the happy couple just after they said they're "I Do's" -- this blurry photo courtesy of Rico (how, how, how can nearly every pic he takes be blurry?). Don't they look happy?


She was beautiful -- and her dress was stunning. Sophisticated, and gorgeous, and just so Danielle. OMG if I was a I've-always-dreamed-about-my-wedding-day kind of girl this dress would be the one I would have picked -- well, that is if I was a size 2 and perfectly proportioned like Danielle.

It was the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen. Gorgeous cream color. Beautifully beaded with pearls. A graceful silhouette with just a bit of tulle floating out at the bottom. Stunning. Here they are surrounded by the our American Cancer Society crew -- Danielle used to live in G.R. and work at the ACS office there. (we miss her!). Aaron lured her back to the thumb -- where they both grew up -- and that's where they make their home now. G.R.'s loss is Ubly's gain.

It was a pleasure to be a part of their big day. All the best to the lovebirds!

Zebra. Really?

The girl wants her room redone. Have I mentioned this before? The main theme she's requested is based on her favorite animal. The zebra. Oy!

Animal prints were strictly taboo in our house growing up -- my mom absolutely hates, hates, hates them. No way, no how, no animal print -- or anything even remotely resembling one was permitted.

As a result, I'm thinkin', I'm not all that fond of them either. But the girl is a fashionable tween and she has definate ideas on how she wants her room redone.


I'm all about vibrant colors -- fresh and lively -- coral, greens, yellow, oranges, shots of pink. But, alas, Auntie M (that's me) has no vote in this room makeover. Zebra. And purple. Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh. In a fairly small space. Just thinking of it makes me think dark and dreary, and I was picturing stuff like this...

And believe me there's plenty of this kind of stuff available (this courtesy of Amazon.com). Is is just me, or does this look really oppressive?

So I hit the web to see how these two color/pattern requests could work together in a fresh way. I gotta admit it's tough. But I keep digging through websites hoping to find something that appeals to me -- all the while keeping the girl's more sophisticated style in mind.

I have to admit that it's hard to grasp that hip, latina, fashion-queen, paint-em-on-skinny-jean-wearing-vibe when I'm a polar-fleece and well-worn-jeans kind of girl. S-t-r-e-t-c-h, stretch, stretching.

I found some nice looking sets that have zebra influences in horchow.com:

Majella Marzipan is nice, but it's not purple, and it may not be fashion-forward enough for her -- I think it's a bit too sophisticated and not enough "attitude":

I really like the one called "Aubrey" -- but holy-Horchow we can't afford these prices -- so this might be a contender for how we use zebra and purple but make it pop with some other colors or patterned fabrics. Lively-er. than just purple zebra, don't you think?
So the quest has begun. Zebras for all!

Grace

Grace: favor or goodwill; mercy

Let there be grace. For all. Let there be mercy, favor, goodwill. So many people I know are experiencing challenges these days. Unemployment. Health issues. Relationship woes. Financial stress.

There are times when it seems so unrelenting that we all wonder WHEN better times will come back 'round. Really, when will they? There don't seem to be easy answers for any of the issues I'm seeing in the lives of friends and family.

So let there be grace. Let us show mercy on ourselves and others. Let us show goodwill towards one another. Let us do what we can to help each other through difficult times, especially when so many are struggling right now.

Grace.

The winds of grace are always blowing,
but you have to raise the sail. ~ Ramakrisha

Ahhhh, weddings

This fall is full of weddings for us. The first one was this weekend in G.R., when Rico's cousin, Dillon, married her love, Sammit -- TWICE


The lovebirds met when Dillon was in highschool (just like Rico and I). Seven years later they got married. It was such a sweet ceremony -- both times. They actually wed during their rehearsal, where it was intimate and about them rather than the drama of the "wedding day"). Here they are moving in to seal the deal after getting married on Friday...

And here they are after the big to-do on Saturday -- Indian Barat, Irish blessing, big dress for her and full-on Indian wedding garb for him, carriage ride, and all.

Rico's parents, who are actually Dillon's aunt/uncle, were the "Grandparents" for Dillon since her grandparents passed away long ago. Here are Ardis and Bill with their grandkids after they sent the happy couple off for a carriage ride around downtown: And here they are on their wedding day (oh so many years ago, 1964 I think):
Their marriage led to two boys, and those two boys led to two girls who were sisters...



And that led to two boys and two sisters getting married (yes, I know, it's freakishly odd). The younger set married first at Ardis and Bills B&B -- can you guess when this was?

This lovely little flower girl is Dillon (this weekend's bride ) in that wedding many moons ago:
And then much later the older boy and girl married in uber-casual style -- NOT this...

Yes, that's Rico and I on the far right when we were "bests" in their wedding...

But rather this beach wedding that started with us sending just our immediate families on a scavenger hunt where they arrived at our wedding. Hows that for a winning prize? Aren't we funny?

Small, intimate, about us, and not the "wedding" stuff... alot like Dillon and Sammit on Friday.

Ahhh, weddings. To each his own.

And just because I can, and because I know my sis will LOVE it (not) I'll leave you with this:

Isn't she SO cute?

A wee bit of me Wednesdays... er, Thursday

I know, it's not Wednesday -- but I just came across Leigh Ashley's blog today and it looks like fun. Here goes:

{one} what is your happiest childhood memory?

Camping with our big extended family (with two families of aunts, uncles, and cousins too) at Timber Shores Resort in Northport, Michigan. It was a resort that was North West of Traverse City back in the 70s. So much fun! Campfires, swimming, tennis, shuffleboard, crafts, "kids camp", square dances, singing "You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille" accompanied by the jukebox during happy hour. It was awesome!

{two} what is your middle name?

Rene (yes, with one "e", like a boy's name in France)

{three} what’s the habit you’re most proud of breaking?

Huh... once I stopped expressing sarcastic comments for 6 months. But I felt like a watered-down version of myself, so I stopped.

{four} what do you order when you order Chinese food?
Hot and sour soup, egg roll (no shrimp), and General's Chicken

{five} what’s the best bargain you’ve ever found at a garage sale or thrift store?
Like-new Chaco sandles -- the sole is almost totally unblemished, so hardly ever worn -- that retail for upwards of $100.

{six} what’s the best costume you’ve ever worn?

Black-eye'd P's -- we work black shirts with a big, white felt "P" on the front and a killer black eye for each of us -- thanks to a beautiful palette of eyeshadow (artfully applied)

{seven} who’s your favorite game show host?
Drew Carey

{eight} what’s your favorite breakfast food?

Denny's pancakes.

{nine} what’s your least favorite word?
Um, I'm not comfortable putting it in print -- but I really dislike it -- really ;)

{ten} describe something that happened to you for which you have no explanation.

Being swindled by a lawyer who took our money but didn't do anything.

I like this post from "Notes to Self"

Go here to read it: Request for Transfer

I'm ready for "Handling Crazy Abundance 101" too. Bring it on. :)

Then I could stock the house with Amy Butler linens, towels, and fabric. Looking at my towels makes me happy. Ahhhhh. (Yes, all I can afford is the hand towel -- don't judge me! Thank goodness for Bed, Bath and Beyond 20% off coupons).

Love, love, love.


And her "Full Bloom" bedding? L-O-V-E.




And this porch with her towels blocking the warm summer sun. Sigh.

Musical stylings

The musical stylings of... Glee.

I watched the end of the season show earlier in the week and I was craving me some Glee the next day. I went to my music source, Dave, because his wife and I have similar musical interests. If I'm lookin' for something chances are Beth already has it.

Guess what? She DID! Season one anyway. Score! So now I'm gleefully listening to a bit of Glee.

The next day Dave had a question for me... have I heard of Jack Johnson? What? OF COURSE!

I have lots of his music, including the two most recently released albums which I had just picked up at Target. Now if only I could find them... they're MIA (I suspect I loaned them to my sister):
To the Sea

En Concert Here's what I managed to dig up to give to Dave. Take a listen, he's one of my faves.

I love Upside Down from Curious George
Sleep Through the Static

I love "Banana Pancakes" from In Between Dreams

Jack Johnson

On and On

The funny part of this -- funny ironic, not funny ha ha -- is once upon a time I asked my brother if he'd ever heard of Jack Johnson, and we played out the same scenario. In fact, my niece, who was 7 at the time, could sing the words to many of his songs. Great minds think alike, eh?

Just keep swimming

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmyUkm2qlhA

Like Dory says, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming."

I wanted to share those words of wisdom with a friend of mine today, but I wasn't sure she'd "get" it. Her kids were well past the age when they'd watch animated feature films when Finding Nemo came out by Pixar. So would she get the reference? I wasn't sure. And lord knows I'd sound pretty stupid if I said "Just keep swimming" in response to a troubling event in her life. Swimming? Huh? Wha? (And then in the back of her mind she'd be thinking, what in the heck was up with M?).

So you see, while I thought it would be a positive response to her struggle, I just couldn't use it.

For the rest of the day I heard Dory saying "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming." Over and over again. Seriously. Thank goodness I like Ellen DeGenerous, so I didn't mind hearing her voice all afternoon.

Have you ever been stumped about how to offer comfort? Or great words of wisdom? I often am. Pearls of wisdom don't fall off my tongue.

Maybe having a blue tongue would help. Tomorrow I'll give it a shot.

TGIF

I tore this picture out of Country Living and have it hanging in by cube-ette at work. It fills me with joy when I look at it and imagine myself there with a book and a Diet Coke instead of stuck in tan-cube maze. Read a little. Nap a little. Repeat.

Doesn't it just make your heart glad? Hopefully after the hooligan's football game tomorrow morning (8:30 a.m. game -- so much for sleeping in on the weekend!) I can spend some time in a hammock. Or an Adirondack chair.

I need it. My jaw needs a chance to un-clench. My teeth need a break from grinding. Sigh.

I need another 2 week vacation at the beach -- with my hammock. :)

For Maddie

I was going to write a post earlier in the week about the Doggie Slumber Party we had over Labor Day weekend. Killer had two friends stay with us -- Maddie and Sophie -- while their family was up north for the holiday. I even took pictures to commemorate the event, which was a first for us. Since Killer really loves to be the center of attention (especially mine) we've never had guests that weren't "family." Last weekend changed that, and Killer did really well with sharing the spotlight.

Here she is with Maddie:

And here she is with Sophie:

They went for a walk. They raced around in the field. Maddie even enjoyed playing on my sister's trampoline (which is in-ground, so they just walked right onto it to play). They lounged around. They (we) napped and enjoyed the rain storm

I'm glad it was a good weekend for the girls, because, sadly, Maddie started having seizures yesterday and she is now up with the angels. Much love to the brown-eared girl. Much love to her family too -- especially her "mom" who left for to start her freshman year of college the week before Labor Day.

A STUMP FOR A TAIL
You can't buy loyalty, they say

I bought it though, the other day;

You can't buy friendship, tried and true,

Well just the same, I bought that too.

I made my bid, and on the spot

Bought love and faith and a whole job lot

Of happiness, so all in all
The purchase price was pretty small.

I bought a single trusting heart,

That gave devotion from the start.

If you think these things are not for sale,

Buy a brown-eyed puppy with a stump for a tail.

--- author unknown ---

Passive Aggressive or Aggressive?

I'm feeling angry. Very. Very. Angry.

• Why must men be so dumb/irresponsible/childish/infantile? (Feel free to take your pick.)
• Why must they gather in groups and get crocked and do stupid stuff?
• And why can't they call to say they're going to be out late? (so you don't worry, part I)
• And what can't they call to say they need a ride? (so you don't worry, part II)

It beats the hell outta me. And I'm not sure when I'll get over my "mad" about Wednesday night's activities. The last thing I wanted to be doing was driving around town at 1:30 a.m. looking for his car in a ditch.

Two days later and I'm still torqued. The only thing that made me feel somewhat entertained about the whole situation was waking his lazy butt up at 8 a.m. by pouring a glass of water on his head as I left for work. I mean really, if I only get 3 hours of sleep why should he get more?

Splashy visual from here.

Half a glass of water poured over his head woke him up enough to get his eyes open. The other half a glass woke him up enough to lift his head up off the pillow, blinking owlishly in confusion.

Then a finger-waving, spirited, one-sided conversation took place. Fun, fun fun (not).

From here.

I'm sure he went back to sleep the second I went up the stairs and slammed the door as I headed to work, but I couldn't very well drag his drunk-ass with me to work, now could I?

So tell me ... passive aggressive? Or Aggressive?

Happy freakin' ten years -- you gotta love this kind of fun, right?

Twenty-six years

True. Twenty-six years of friendship this year.


Twenty-six years. Really. Can you believe it? No, well get this ...

Ten years of marriage on Sunday. WOW! Happy Anniversary to Rico and I.

We spent our anniversary the same way we spent our honeymoon ... at a co-ed softball tournament. And just like our honeymoon his team won the championship (right? geeze, I don't know, it was 10 years ago for pete's sake!).

Way to go team Victory Club -- and way to go Drew's Crew, too. (Here they are raising a glass to Andrew "Drew" Benedict, #6, whose memory the tourney honors.)


Way to go to Rico and I. To my bestest. To my always. Love.

P.S. Thanks to Ray and Rhonda Benedict (and friends/family) for putting together such a great tournament: The Andrew Benedict Memorial Co-ed Softball Tournament. REMEMBER: Give life: please sign up for the Michigan Donor Registry.

Losing it on a Tuesday

Yesterday was tough. Tough, tough, tough. I came home from work and things seemed fine. My doggie-girl was waiting at the back door when I walked in and greeted me with her normal enthusiasm. We sent Rico off to his men's softball league double-header and ate dinner.

I had a half of an heirloom tomato (Rainbow was the variety, I think, and it was a lovely orange on top with a great hue of red on the bottom) and a cuke that I'd picked up at the Ada Farmer's Market on my way home. And two slices of Kraft American Cheese and a handful of oyster crackers. I don't know why I added the crackers, or the cheese for that matter, craving salt maybe? It's an odd combo, I know. But I'm like that. If I'm making myself dinner it's usually an odd combo of things that may, or may not, go together (usually not), because I'm choosing from whatever is in the house that I don't have to cook, and appeals to me at that particular point in time.


(I'm pretty sure Rico hates this -- I want what I want, when I want it when it comes to food -- unfortunately this means I can't tell him in advance what I want to eat for dinner -- so it makes it really hard for him to plan meals. He loves to cook, but I'm just too ... what's the word I'm looking for???? Not picky really ... not demanding really (ha ha ha ha ha ha, yes I am


(All I can think of is that I'm a pain in the ass!) :)


Is that too much information? I'm thinking that if I tell the story then some of the stress and anxiety of it will dissipate. Anyhoo ...


I shared my cheese slices with the two cats and Killer, because everybody was begging to share, and I sat at the bar and read the Redbook that has that hottie from NCIS Los Angeles on it with all his kids. (His name escapes me right now, which is crazy because I totally love him and NCIS and L.L. Yummy.)


Anyway, I'm eating and paging through the magazine and I think I hear whimpering, but I'm not sure. A few minutes later I heard it again, but the cats were nowhere in sight and Killer was laying on her bed in the living room. Hmmm. Odd. Maybe Killer is dreaming again, and lord knows she makes all kinds of noises when she's in never-never-land.


A bit later I gather stuff together and I head upstairs to chill and read in bed (it's been a tough week already, and it's only Tuesday) I'm at the top of the stairs and I realize Killer isn't following me. That hardly ever happens. Odder still is the fact that she's standing down in the the middle of the living room and she won't look at me when I call her. She's twisted sideways a bit. Huh. That's a bit freaky. I don't like it. That's just not how she is. She's my shadow. My big Rottie baby-girl. She's always right there waiting for a butt rub or a belly rub


As I head back downstairs I'm hoping she just needs to go outside (even though she went out when I came home). I get progressively freaked when she still won't look at me, and when I try to heard her towards the stairs she whines. Oh-oh.


Now, I know I can overreact when it comes to health issues (in my family that's called "weak-but" -- I pretty much get queasy and feel like all the blood has left my head -- that's why my sister is the nurse and not me). This issue is one I'm totally aware is a problem for me. But Killer is getting up there in dog years, and Rico isn't home to tell me that I'm overreacting. And I'm getting pretty uptight. Really uptight. But I don't want her to realize it because, you know, I don't want her to freak out.


I'm saying "Keep calm." in my head but I'm nowhere near calm.


Killer is a dog, right? So she can't tell me what's wrong or where she hurts. But something hurts (in addition to my heart, because I can't stand for her to hurt) so I start examining her arthritic legs to see if it's one of those. Nope. Is something in a paw? Nope. Has she broken a nail? Nope.


I run my hand over the lump on her side that the vet assures me is just a fat nodule that happens as dogs become older and older. It's bigger than I remember it being (or am I just imagining that it is?). Nope, that doesn't hurt her.


I run my hand over her stomach and whatever you call the rest of the doggie-underside (it can't all be stomach, can it?). Nope.


Nothing seems to hurt, but CLEARLY something hurts. She still won't look at me. She still won't move.



In typical my overreacting fashion I assume something is terribly wrong. Surely she's burst an organ and is bleeding internally. Her eye's don't look right. She's got some terrible new icky-looking sticky goo on her teeth. Her body is shutting down and there's nothing I can do to help. And the vet is already closed. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Can you tell I'm panicking?


Oh boy am I. It's a freak-out-fest.


I force her to go up the steps, because if she's going to die I want to be able to lie down and hold her while she does it, dang it. So now that both of us are whimpering we're in the bedroom and I STILL can't get her to lay down. And then I start to cry. And pray. And tell myself to get a grip for Pete's sake. Even as I'm telling myself I'm being ridiculous I'm sobbing (and trying not to sob only because I don't want that to be here last memory -- mommy sobbing and freaking out).

Basket. Case.


Totally.


And Rico is still playing softball. We're a mess, and he doesn't even know it. I could call my brother (who Killer belonged to before she came to live with us), or my Dad, or my sister the nurse -- I know they'd all answer their phones, and they'd help me figure our where to take Killer. But she's my responsibility. My baby-dog. I should be able to help her. So I call Rico, who I know doesn't have his phone with him BECAUSE HE'S PLAYING BALL, you dumbass, M.


You know he won't answer. But he should know. And I try not to sob as I leave a message. I'm not totally successful. I figure he won't even get the message, because his phone is crap like that.


But you know what? He got it. He came right home. And by then I was calm(er) and Killer was laying down -- still whimpering and pawing at the ground, and still with the sad eyes and the icky teeth goo -- but laying down). And then he did all the same things I did. I'm not so much of a dumb-ass-worthless-in-an-emergency after all (well, yeah, I am -- but I didn't feel quite so bad then).


And then he looks at me and says, "I wonder if this has anything to do with her eating animal crap outside the other day." Oh. That's right. That would give you a tummy ache, wouldn't it? (And by the way WHY IN THE HELL do dogs do that kind of crap?-- pun intended). Why-oh-why would you eat deer crap, or raccoon crap, or whatever kind of crap you can find in the woods? Why?



What do we do? We get her outside to go potty. We took her for a ride in the car, because she LOVES doing that. And then Killer and I took Rico up the road to the sports bar that sponsors his softball team and we dropped him off to celebrate their win and relax. We headed home, Killer and I. We sat in the driveway outside (because she wouldn't get out of the car). We (I) rearranged the cars so that I could park Killer and her car in the garage in case she didn't want to get out all night. I'm a freak show. I know this.


There was more... but you get the gist. Today she's doing better. She got up to go out when I got up and left for work. Just like always. Yippee! She ate breakfast. Yeah! She went for another car ride and Rico got what he needed to make her hamburger/rice/yogurt stomach fixing combo that the vet recommended. (FYI, she sat in the car for an hour after they got home -- only getting out once her food was cooked and ready to eat).


She greeted me at the door when I got home from work just like always. Thank God.


Her little stub of a tail is wagging a bit. She's eating. I need to take a breath. Inhale. Exhale.


It's time for me to go pet my dog. I'm SO happy to do it







P.S. That NCIS L.A. star is Chris O'Donnel (Duh!). Again, yum.
P.S.S. Thank goodness for spellchecker.

Mid-century Modern Lust

I can't get it out of my mind. The furniture. Oh, the furniture. Even though it totally wouldn't go with my house. For Pete's sake we live in a farmhouse-style house in the woods (Ha! Freudian slip there... I actually typed "weeds" rather than woods -- which is so, so appropriate this summer season. Our landscaping is a disaster. Weeds, weeds, weeds everywhere. Wouldn't you think having someone home full-time would make a difference in how housework and yardwork gets done?)...



What was I saying before I got so distracted? Oh, yeah. I can't get the furniture at D's out of my head. I'm seriously lusting after it -- even searching Craigslist for it -- though I know full well that it wouldn't go with our house. I like an ecclectic style and all, but it would really be a stretch to fit this chair in my living room and have it look right. But holy smokes it's comfy, and so stylish. Lust.

And then there's the pedestal coffee table that's surrounded by the cutest little pedestal stools. It's the "puzzle table" because it's the perfect place to do a puzzle. No hard corners to jab you in the side as you're reaching over to grab a piece that you need. No table legs to smack your legs on as your reaching. I can TOTALLY see this fitting into the lower level in front of my IKEA bookcases. I could put together puzzles to my hearts content. I even have a french door right there --so the light would be similar to the setup that D has. Total lust.

And the little stools, did I mention the little stools? Four perfect little stools surround the puzzle table. Just the right height for my 5'0 tall self. Perfect.

Of course, at D's this ensemble rests on top of a mamoth shaggy hooked rug -- and I wouldn't go there -- but the rest of it. J'adore. Yo quiero. Please.

I fell in love with another mid-century item in college. My freshman dorm was based on a concept of 6 rooms clustered around a shared lounge area -- called "clusters" -- and Dykstra Hall was stocked with Herman Miller furniture (donated, I'm sure, since it's in the hometown of the Herman Miller empire). We had Eames Aluminum Group chairs that we oh-so-comfy. They were in a very unfortunate color of bright orange a shade -- which may have been all the rage about 20 years before I got there -- but you couldn't see the color when you were cradled in it's comfort. Maybe if I got it in tan I could sneak it in somewhere?

One thing I wouldn't want from my college dorm rooms' "cluster" would be the odd conglomeration of pieces that made up a sectional of shorts when pushed together. These pieces were an unfortunate shade of brilliant lime green, and we had three pieces that formed an outside curve (which looked quite odd when pushed against a flat cinder-block wall). It was a cluster all right.And when you combine that and the orange chairs with the darker-but-still-bright-green-scratchy-polyester fabric Chicklet loveseat? Oy!

Of course I didn't take any pictures of the room, so I can't show you exactly how invigorating the color scheme was. These pics don't do the color scheme justice -- they're just too, too tame. But interesting, don't you think? Don't get me wrong, I don't want either of the sofas. Just the chair.

And the puzzle table and stools.

And the mesh chair.

None in orange. ;)