Journal Entry, Feb 23, 2013 First document on the new Ultrabook. Mike lit a fire. I spent over an hour getting online, and then another half hour figuring out how to create documents...and this is the most important part. Writing.
So. The fire is lovely, let me try to describe our domain: Our fireplace is surrounded by brick. The brick is red, but has, over the years become a collage of white, gray, and various shades of red. It's maybe 6 feet wide, and floor to ceiling, maybe 12 feet high. I've never liked the mantel. It's good in that it's handmade, solid wood-- but there's no finesse. The nails show. The shape is crude. I like crude, don't get me wrong. But this just isn't appealing. Still, it holds our candles and the cool Japanese gargoyal ceremics that Adam brought us from... yes! Japan. Adam is Mike's sister Trish's 2nd son, our nephew, a redheaded Marine pilot with a lovely wife and twins. He is one of our family success stories. Anyway, the fireplace has a Minuteman insert. Old. Brass. And I guess there's a blower that's supposed to send the heat throughout the house, but we've never hooked it up. The cool thing about the Minuteman is, besides the great brass, that there are insignias, one on each side of the top, that picture Revolutionary War soldiers with muskets. The bricks extend beyond the fireplace to the right about another five feet to the wall, creating a nice spot for stacking wood. Mike insists we keep a hideous white fire extinguisher infront of the wood. I try to hide it behind the little winerack Trish gave me for Christmas a couple of year ago. It's not the best disguise though when you can't afford to keep the winerack full. Or maybe I drink too much wine... The painted walls are called cornsilk. It's a warm shade of yellow. The ceiling is open-beamed knotty pine. The fire warms my knees. The glow permeates the room. Small. Leather filled. Three dogs lounge on the furniture: an old lab mix, a young freshly shaved Bishon Frise, and a salt and pepper miniature Schaunzer. The dogs are the reason it is leather filled as opposed to fabric filled. Leather is more durable and easier to defur. Diesel and McDuff are on the sofa. Atticus is on the ottoman. They have blankets, too. McDuff's is a keepsake he brought from Menafee, giraffe print. The room smells like Christmas in Minnesota. A bit smoky. With eau de dog. The candle scents, vanilla, pomegrante, and citrus, mingle with the electric Sensi Halloween melts which I cannot recall the name of but are called something wonderful like Hocus Pocus. I keep Mom and Dad's separate pictures out on display (I only have about two of them together and they aren't large enough to display...This because, as you may be aware, they weren't together that long), as well as Matt and Hayley's. Our wedding picture, and Mom and Dad Pohlman's wedding picture are also nearby. Mike's grandparents too. And, our favorite, a picture in sepia tones of all four of our grandkids with us piled around Mike's Harley. The china cabinets are pine, filled with my Nonnie's wedding china, circa 1918? And martini glasses... The floors are hardwood, Mike put them in. Thick, narrow, knotted red oak--the pieces no one wants but that we find so beautiful. The carpet--just an area rug. Thick wool, paisley, but huge patterns. Orange, blue, yellow, brown, green... The table is an old bread making station. The wood top is curved and split from use. The drawers are huge, tin bins where the flour used to be kept. There's a ceramic pillar pot adorned with French ads for bread. A lamp made out of wooden skis. Antique snowshoes on the wall. Black and White Buffalo plaid curtains. A rocker.
We say thank you everyday!
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