Pam and I bought furniture yesterday. We were about to buy the exact same furniture back in June when our AC unit stopped working. We decided that air conditioning, over the summer, in Short Pump, was a greater priority. We caught everything on sale and actually saved some money over what we would have paid last year.
I have always wanted a library in my house...and now I have one. We have a seldom used living room which has now been transformed into a beautiful, old money looking library, complete with two new chairs, gorgeous, richly detailed bookcases complete with one of those sliding ladders, and a wonderful writing desk. When it all gets delivered, I'll share pictures.
I was telling one of my nieces who has two little ones how it never really stops...these money-spending demands that life makes of us. Back when we had kids in the house, we couldn't have nice things. Turns out our mothers were right. First of all, with two kids we couldn't afford nice things, but even if we could have, what would have been the point? It would have taken all of two days before one of them would have thrown up all over that beautiful Persian rug. And I'm sorry, all of the overpriced Scottsguard treatments in the world would have been useless against one of my kids' Spaghettios-fueled projectile vomit performances!!
But now the kids are all grown. Their incessant demands for every spare dime of my capital have ended. So now, all that money I thought I would be banking is now flying out of my wallet even faster than it was back when they had crooked teeth. I have a new Downton Abbey-esk library!
About the time we were about to pay for it all I noticed for the first time the marketing slogan for the particular line of furniture we were buying. I have no idea why I never noticed it before because it
was in plain view on all of their signs and whatnot:
was in plain view on all of their signs and whatnot:
Van Buren...for the stylish connoisseur.
I almost called the whole thing off. What a horrible, elitist slogan. I am neither a connoisseur of fine furniture nor very stylish, for that matter....and Martin Van Buren was a terrible President! Oh well.
Of course now buyers' remorse has set in. From now on, The Tempest will be written at my stylish new writing desk, surrounded by richly carved bookcases and handsomely detailed chairs. Will the influence of such finery affect my writing? Will I find myself writing sentences filled with French words like...connoisseur? Good Lord, I hope not. If you, the reader, start detecting excessive high browery, too much reliance on flowery metaphors, and a preoccupation with inheritance taxes...feel free to complain!
Oh...and to help me replenish my newly depleted savings account, please click on one of these ads!!
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