The Bedroom Makeover, serene oasis

Shot of the new flooring going in my bedroom.  We ordered flooring from the Armstrong Rustics Premium collection.  It is a commercial grade long plank laminate in the color Boston Tea.  They are seven foot long planks.  I love it.  It has a matte finish so the dog nails won't be as much as an issue.  (If I keep the dogs running around the outside deck, their nails will get filed naturally.)

The wood look laminate was installed over a concrete sub-floor with a barrier.  We did the living room, dining room, hallway and two bedrooms.  The worst part was the hallway with all the little cuts to finesse the long planks into place.  It is a breeze to clean.  We are extremely happy with the color and look of this flooring.

Back story on bedroom remodel.  I sleep in the smallest room in the house.  I have a cpap machine and oxygen assist for medical issues.  For the last 4 years I was sleeping on my Daddy's old mattress that was already 20 years old.  For an overweight woman with fibromyalgia issues, it was pure torture and provided no comfort.  Fred has the master bedroom and the king size bed that is the perfect firmness for him.  He is very happy.  Anyway, since we were so blessed this year, Fred insisted I get a new bed and mattress for my room to see if I could get better sleep.  Off to American Signature Furniture in Pinellas Park, FL.   We chose a bed that has four drawers of storage underneath and a bookcase headboard in an espresso finish.

We picked a wicked comfortable mattress, extra deep.  Now mind you, I am vertically challenged and this is a TALL bed.  I have to use a footstool to climb in each night.   It is like sleeping on a cloud and it has been wonderful for these old bones.

Tall deep drawers!!!

Art from my Polish relatives, Ludmila and her mother.

We found a chest of drawers, MYA collection on sale at American Signature, four deep huge drawers. We bought the accessory drawers that fit on top, all the storage anyone could need.  The flooring installers broke my mdf Walmart special bookcase, so we upgraded to a better piece from Target  in an espresso finish.  I  have the bookcase in front of the 36 inch slider going to the back porch.  It fits perfectly.  Last purchase for the room was a large modern desk from O.co.  It fits perfectly under my picture wall of the kids and I couldn't be happier with the looks of the room.  My color scheme is creme/black and taupe.  I have my favorite paintings on one wall, all done by various family members.

The four footed family members love the new bed too.  It is a bit of a challenge for the mouth of the south Skippy to scale the mountain, but she does.  And she burrows under the covers to hide.

Charlie Brown likes the bed too! He looks positively ZEN!

missing the curtains and blinds!

New wall arrangement!

I have re-purposed all the angel items and decorative pieces from our demolished main bath and have added them to my wall over my bed.  It makes me happy to see my favorite pieces in the room.  I'm still in love with the color of the walls, it is Porter Paints, cashmere.   I have my favorite Waverly black and white toile valances, taupe crushed voile curtains, bamboo shades all in all, the room gives me an extremely peaceful feeling.  It is serene and I'm surrounded by the photos and pictures that mean so much to me.  It is a refuge in a chaotic world.

Sounds, thoughts, pleasures and pain, the moments and days of your life, the people you love, will all come and go.  Whatever is born will die and whatever is created will at some point disintegrate.  It is important to find a space in your world that will give you comfort and peace, to rejuvenate and refresh.  Constant strife, pressure and worries, will only exacerbate illness and discomfort.  Creating an oasis to practice the fine art of relaxation is indeed a luxury that few gift themselves.  I'm only just learning to appreciate the necessity of clutter-free living.  It certainly frees the mind to focus on emotional and spiritual issues instead of worrying about the mess and clutter.

There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want.  ~Bill Watterson,Calvin and Hobbes

Memories of my father.....Buddy

Another Father's Day rolls around and my dad has been gone for three years...although his heart disease robbed him from me far earlier and more cruelly.  Senile dementia, a cold clinical term for a cruel disease.

"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was." - Anne Sexton

Most of my life, I felt cherished and adored by my Daddy.  It was always a favorite story to hear my mom tell of my adoption into their lives.  They tried and tried for a baby and it just didn't happen.  Then some of Dad's cronies, a lawyer and a pediatrician, got together and guess what, I found a new home.  Funny birth certificate, you can see where they crossed out the birth mother's name and typed my mom's name over the her name.  I don't have the original, just a microfiche xerox copy.  Things were done differently in 1957.  I was "supposed to be a boy" and I wasn't due until December.  Mom and Dad went out and bought a lot of clothes and fixed up the nursery early.   Good thing, because I arrived in October and turned out to be a girl.  I spent 6 weeks in Mound Park hospital.  I came home wearing a sailor suit that Dad had purchased for his "son."  My mom would tell me the story of him cradling me in his arms in that white suit and the horror on his face when he realized his little girl had soiled his arms.

Daddy had a fascinating life and he would tell me wonderful stories of his young life in St. Petersburg.  His family moved here from Maine very early in his life.  He would graduate from St. Petersburg High School and he always considered St. Pete to be his home.   His mom lived out on John's Pass on the beaches and I still have his letters written to her as a private in the army.   Amazing to think her name and John's Pass Florida was a sufficient enough address for his letters to get to her.  She kept them all.  I have read them and it is a fascinating look at his life through his words.  His words were redacted by censors in some of them, particularly the ones written in his POW months.   I can hear his longing for home and creature comforts, candy and cigarettes, first and foremost.  He was so young and so rebellious. Candy for the boy he longed to be and cigarettes for the man he was becoming before his time.  I have no doubt he became a haunted man in those years away.  He came home gravely ill.  His mom nursed him back to health.  His experiences in POW camp were a constant shadow of pain underneath his jovial flamboyant exterior.  Daddy dressed and lived the life of a bon vivant, hiding his self doubts behind the trappings of a wealthy man.  I often thought of him as a combination of Frank Sinatra, Jackie Gleason and Dean Martin.  He was a sharp dressed man long before and long after it was the style.

We moved a lot when I was young and I can scarcely recall our various homes.  I do have vivid memories of one home on Treasure Island and the other house on the Gulf (his mom's?).  The long stretch of seawall, the pebble backyard and the screened porch with the redwood picnic table.  The shiny slippery terazzo floors and the teal colored kidney shaped bar in the living room.  I can remember sitting on his lap and sharing a bowl of his famous "hangover" cure, watching the waves of the salt water lap against the boat.  Of course, I never knew what ailment Daddy would be suffering from, I was just happy to be sitting on his lap, sharing a spoonful of buttery warm milk toast.  My older sister tells the tale of that summer and how I learned to swim before I could walk.  Out on the boat, Daddy climbed overboard with me cradled in his arms and I started to kick and swim and he let me go in the Gulf.  Mom was ready to kill him for that stunt.  Sherry, my older sister, also remembers all too well the day she was supposed to be watching me and I got hurt. Poor dear, paid for it later with a beating from dad, I'm afraid and it wasn't her fault, but mine.  I was not much more than three and a neighbor boy was jumping from the seawall into the water and then swimming to the dock and he would do it over again.  I decided I should do the same, afterall, I was a swimmer now.   Bad idea.  I fell backwards when I jumped and slammed my head on the concrete wall.   Sherry put me in her bicycle basket and rode her bike home crying and hollering like a wild woman.  I can still remember Daddy again cradling me in his arms and bursting into the ER with those hideous mint green walls.  I can see his face tight with worry and his words of comfort.   Daddy, I love you and I'm wishing you a Happy Father's day.  Thank you for all the love through all those years.  Thank you for the gift of memories shared.  Love you, always.

Daddy's Milk Toast aka Hangover cure

2 thick slices of homemade white bread toasted

butter

salt and pepper

hot milk, just to the scalding point, not boiled/whole milk, no skim

Toast the bread medium dark.

Butter very well.

Tear into chunks.

Sprinkle with lots of black pepper and enough salt to make you happy.

Pour over hot milk.  Soak a minute or two.

Grab a big old soup spoon and eat.

You want to see little dots of butter floating in the milk, then you know you have it just right.

“Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; and good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts.”

James Beard (1903-1985)