Gracious! It has been over a month since I've written anything on the blog. I've been drowning in work, and just a bit too tired to collect my thoughts. And, of course, the more time that elapses, the more there is to write about, and the more overwhelmed I feel by it all.
So, what's been going on? We've been cranking out theatrical scenery at a furious pace at work. We've been working on the garden, visiting garden centers, going on garden tours with our neighbors, and hanging out with friends. To be honest, the last month feels like a bit of a blur.
So why am I showing a photo of our late tomcat, Mister Furdusi?
Well, because he looks so very splendid, lounging on the windowsill in the bathroom of our old apartment. And because the time has come to think about green bathrooms.
When I was in art school, I went through a phase where I was fascinated by a very particular combination of pink and green. I started noticing it everywhere, and I just adored how it looked.
It turns out that this was a wildly popular color combination in bathrooms of a certain age.
This was a time when people were FEARLESS with color. How about that floor? (That white sink and toilet are clearly later additions.)
Lately, when I'm really tired and stressed out, I unwind by spending some time trawling Pinterest. There's something very soothing about immersing one's self in a sea of beautiful pictures. (And there's So Much Weird Stuff there as well.) When I can't muster the energy to work on my own vintage bathroom, I can always amuse myself by doing some virtual window-shopping. (That's another nice floor.)
Robb and I periodically drop by the local architectural salvage places, to see what kind of bathroom fixtures are on sale. Our current sink is vintage, but cracked. We've been tormenting ourselves by looking at lovely colored bathroom sets.
The problem with shopping for vintage fixtures is that they have to be bought in sets, if you want the color to match. And those sets inevitably include beautiful, expensive, and utterly gigantic bathtubs.
Bathtubs that couldn't possibly fit into our microscopic bathroom. Bathtubs that they won't let you not buy.
Trust us on this. We've examined every possible option, and unless we want to start ripping out walls, and reconfiguring rooms (which we don't) there's no way to fit one of these massive tubs into our tiny bathroom.
So, I was pretty danged excited when I got a text message from my friend Sarah, alerting me to the fact that one of the local salvage places was selling a green toilet and sink. Without the tub.
This is pretty much my Bathroom Fixture Dream Come True. And, yes, I do actually dream about bathroom fixtures. Mayhem and Architecture, that's the usually programming in Lisa Dreamland.
Since Robb and I weren't prepared to install these beauties right away, we dragged them into the laundry room for the time being. This took a lot of strategy and trust. Robb is strong, but has all sorts of issues with balance and walking. Massive chunks of antique porcelain are heavy and frightfully slick. We moved these with the care that Art Handlers might use, if one of them were paraplegic.
We weren't planning on doing any major work on our bathroom this summer, but it seems as if we may be tackling this project sooner than we had anticipated. I think I may be teaching myself to lay tile. And because I'm OBSESSED with pattern, you KNOW I won't be doing a simple layout.
The sink looks a bit drunk, doesn't it?