Well, I threw it away. Or, more technically, took it to the SPCA thrift store.
I had not even a twinge of regret about giving it up.
You see, this little tsatske was a thank you gift from a Brasilian guy named Sergio. Sergio had been one of our exchange students. He was one of the Uber Rich who stayed with us. When he returned to Brasil, he brought a motorcycle in his suitcase, because it was not legal to send it. His family owned a ranch in the middle of Rio de Janeiro. A friend of mine visited his family when she was in Rio and came back to report that they are "rich...rich...rich...rich."
I don't remember how long it was after he returned to Brasil that he married. We never heard from him, of course, but one day he and his wife of one year showed up at our door at 10 p.m. at night. I was delighted to see them and, since it was so late, I invited them to spend the night. I would have been less delighted if I realized he planned to use our house as home base, a place to have breakfast in the morning and dinner at night and then go off on their adventures during the day...for a week. One day I took them to San Francisco and we walked around Chinatown. We stopped in a store and he pulled this little cork statue out of a sale bin. He paid 25 cents for it and gave it to me to thank me for taking care of them and giving them two meals a day for a week. Then he went back to his rich, rich, rich family and I never heard from them again.
So in cleaning up stuff in preparation for the big painting project, there were no difficult decisions to be made about this piece of crap. It went in the discard bin. And today it is at the SPCA shop.
Yes, we are PAINTING. I use the term "we" advisedly. I have offered to help, feeling bad that Walt is doing all the work, but I can't get to the top of the walls without the ladder, and we only have one. I can't do the floor because I can't kneel down and Walt just figured it would be easier if he did it all, so he has been, poor man. He's so sore tonight he can barely walk...he forgets he's pushing 72.
But I'm happy with the color, which is a light shade of yellow called "sunkissed." I was afraid it might be too yellow, but it's more the color of buttermilk on the walls and I'm very happy with it. There is one wall left to do, and that is the wall that the dogs "use" to look out the living room window, so we aren't really happy about having to inconvenience the dogs for a couple of days. Let's hope it goes all right!
I finally had my hair cut today. I was looking like a mangy old lion. I always go to Supercuts. Can anybody tell me why NONE of the hair cutters at SuperCuts have even somewhat looking hair styles of their own? In the past, most of my experiences there have been good, despite a frequent language barrier. I was expecting great things today since the girl who cut my hair grew up in West Sacramento. I should have worried when she said she had only started working there a month ago, but I was comforted by the fact that she asked lots and lots of questions about what I wanted done with my hair. Finally someone who would get it perfect!
It is not good to have your hair cut when you have to remove your glasses and can't see a thing in the mirror.My hair looks like a close fitting German helmet. Probably the worst cut I've ever had. And no, I'm not going to post a photo. I just hope that when I wash it it will loosen up a bit....and I'm philosophical enough to realize that it will grow out again. I am also very lucky that my hair does what it wants to do, no matter what someone has told it to do, and I'm sure that by the time I've slept on it, it will look OK.