SoMeoNe'S iN THe KiTCHeN WiTH LoRRie

I promised pictures of our new digs and here they are. Let's start the tour of Chez Veasey with the heart of our home...the kitchen. Here's what it looked like when we bought the house.

Perfectly usable kitchen, BUT Lots of Beige. And I am not a big fan of beige because it makes me look washed out. The floor was a lovely terra cotta tile and you could actually stand at the stove and practically reach into the fridge- which is convenient if you are trying to keep the wine chilled while you set the microwave to stun.

Here's another shot including our fabulous realtor. She looks a little washed out against all that beige, no?

Hmmm...what to do, what to do? Change the paint color? Buy new drapes? OR PERHAPS WE SHOULD......

That's what we did- took the room down to its studs. We can rebuild it. We can make it faster. We can make it stronger. (Insert theme from Six Million Dollar Man here.)
We put in a floor of dark cherry wood (not knowing what that would be like to clean later on), moved appliances, and made our own backsplash from 4 x 4 handmade tiles in several shades of blue and green. TA DA
We bought our table and chairs at Target and later jazzed them up with white vinyls from Etsy (shown in final picture). But that wall behind the table was so BIG. And our artwork (and budget) was so very very small.


The solution? We hit a bunch of tag sales and I made a bunch of paintings. We pulled everything together by using mostly black frames. And here is the result.
Really fun way to fill a big wall space.

OCCuPy OuR STReeT

DISCLAIMER: This is not a political post. Seriously. I haven't cared about politics since Tina Fey ran for president awhile ago. It is certainly not political satire. Because I would have to understand an issue before I poked fun at it--all I know about Occupy Wall Street is that there are A LOT of people and too few bathrooms. Hey.... wait a second...


Recently, a new movement found its way from Wall Street to the Walls of Chez Veasey. OCCUPY OUR STREET is a movement of 1% of The Spawn in protest of the 99% of the elitist, capitalistic parental units who head up the household. The protest was started by The Banana in response to events in which Household Leaders could not locate several hundred miscellaneous toys that were said to have been Quote: "In a box we haven't unpacked yet from our move 8 months ago" Unquote.



One source was reported as saying that one toy in particular, a very large FUR REAL horse that went by the name of Butterscotch, was unceremoniously chopped into small furry pieces in the dead of night and then whisked away Pre Dawn by NYC sanitation. "We Dextered that thing" the Source (who may or may not have been drunk at the time, and may or may not have been Sexyhusbandomine) is reported as saying. "Put the body parts out in several black plastic trash bags. Butterscotch sleeps with the fishes now."


Protesters, which include The Banana and two cats, also voiced extreme displeasure at the disappearance of a dozen toys that were once included in a Happy Meal. "Those were really special," sobbed the only protester capable of human speech. "I can't remember what they were and they might have been broken, but they were the most important thing in the world to me. Along with my collection of tags that I made Mom cut out of my shirts because they itched and....heyyyyy....wait a second....where is my tag collection?"


Other demands on the part of the two legged protester include:
- A ban of all cheese in the household
- Later bedtime if something good is on Teen Nick
- Socks that do not have the line in them at the toes

All three protesters agree and call for MORE BACON.

We do not know how long OCCUPY OUR STREET will last, but we have a feeling once it becomes boring, that Banana will be back to occupying Sesame Street. Where 99% of the cookies are consumed by 1% of the monsters, the few prosper while others live in a garbage can, and wages at Mr. Hooper's store have been frozen since 1982.

ArTsY SMaRTsY

I recently stepped out of my comfort zone and submitted three works of art to the local gallery for a show they were doing featuring local artists. I brought The Spawn to the opening night where they sipped sparkling cider in plastic cups while we walked around admiring the portraiture on the walls, and saying things like: "what the hell is that supposed to be?" and "are you kidding me? I wouldn't pay that much for a car!" and "That's evocative."

The experience rubbed off on The Banana, because I returned from work the other day and she greeted me in a little black dress and presented me with tickets to her own art opening--conveniently located on the second floor hallway of Chez Veasey.

THE BEACH : AVALON Annie Veasey $4,000,000

The hallway was filled with various works of art, all carefully hung with scotch tape and labeled with their clever titles and reasonable asking prices.

THE PEACE TREE By Annie Veasey $350,000,000


RANDOM SHAPE By Annie Veasey $45,000,099

I was glad to see that the art exhibition had been so educational for The Banana. She showed an understanding of even the most complicated gallery verbiage:


BLAH BLAH BLAH.

O I am so proud of my budding Freda Kohl. Or I will be. You know, after I scrape the scotch tape off of the newly painted white walls done in a flat white latex which shows every single fingerprint and hand print made by an artist who did not want to interrupt her creative flow by washing her hands between paintings.



Gosh, I sure hope Random Shape sells so we can afford the clean up.

The WiNNeR iS....

VERY HARD TO PICK A WINNER--so many great submissions and I wish I had seventeen tea for ones to give away!!

The winner is.....MEGS
Because girls just wanna have puns. I heart you and your witty turns of phrasing Megsy. Email me at LVMud (at) aol (dot) com with your address.

But nobody loses! There were so many great entries that ALL OF YOU get a prize. Email me at the email address above with your address--put CONSOLATION PRIZE in the subject line, and I will send you a little sumpin sumpin.

Thanks for playing you lovely creative people you. I am off to make an appearance in Atlanta this weekend. If you are at the Gift Show please stop by and see me in the Enesco showroom where I will be from 4-7pm on Saturday night. Hope to see you there!

FuNNy PRoDuCTs...NoT By Me

'Tis the season for Trade Shows Chickens, so soon I will reveal the ONIM January Launch--but before I do I'd like to take a moment and celebrate some other very fine products.



I love this axe keyholder! It sure would come in handy for all those times I lock myself in the house. Entire episodes of CSI could be written differently if every household had one of these.


Cat Refridgerator Magnet. Fridge got your tongue?

Sexyhusbandomine is getting this tie for Father's Day.


How about this fork with a built in pizza cutter for the snobby people that won't pick the slice up with their hands? Pretty cool idea. And if you were to give yourself a cut that required stitches you might not even notice until you were done with dinner and realized that wasn't tomato sauce.


This is a very clever way to thwart those people who try to use your mug at the office. What will they think up next? A way to protect my stapler? My tape dispenser? My daughter's virtue?



I'll have a ham on rye. TO GO. Seriously, I am a big believer in always packing a snack.

Now you can actually WIN one of these cool tea for ones! Do you have a creative/ridiculous/funny idea for a teapot? Just leave a 1-5 sentence description in the comments below describing it. A panel of judges (that would be me, my two cats and perhaps my 8 year old during a commercial break) will pick a winner on Thursday, January 12th. Winner will be notified by email, but winner's name will be published here. Entry may actually turn into a real product, in which case clever winner receives additional prize! One entry per person please. Runners Up may be awarded consolation prizes. Thinking caps on people. Extra points for correct use of grammar.

24/7 on HBO- STaRRiNG OVaL

Sexyhusbandomine was watching HBO the other night and caught this appearance of our Hockey Oval Platter on the show about the Rangers & Flyers rivalry.



The oval platter has since gotten an agent, booked its own reality show, and is currently still at a party with Lindsey Lohan.

PS I am a Philly girl now, so go Flyers.

OuR HouSe is A FiNe FiNe FiNe HouSe

What is the difference between an apartment and a house? I would have to say the biggest shock is going from a kitchen like this


To a kitchen like this


Which should make me feel like


But instead has me feeling like this


Thank Gawd we bought a barbeque and I can force The Spawn and Sexyhusbandomine to eat all meals outside from April-October. On paper plates. While I lay on my polished wood floors and stroke them lovingly and call them "My Precious."

Another difference between a house and an apartment? In New York we dealt with


The New Jersey Suburbian equivalent is this creature


Which, for those of you chickens who only have to contend with things like scorpions or black widows, is a bug called a STINKBUG.

The locals have made sure to tell us where the best grocery store is, how to get a pizza delivered, who to take The Spawn to for teeth cleanings, and then they lean in close, eyes darting furtively from side to side and in an ominous tone warn "AND DON'T EVER CRUSH A STINKBUG."

Sometimes this warning is accompanied by banjo music.

The thing is, you don't see these skittering across your laundry room floor attempting to grab your ankle like you do the bugs in New York City. No. You find these as little dead carcasses on windowsills or under chairs, in the corners of stairwell, or conveniently placed next to a trash can as if they were making a last ill fated attempt to reach the mound of magazines on the back of the toilet including the Victoria Secret catalog that Sexyhusbandomine has stated he wants to keep just so he can buy me presents and for No Other Reason.

And you know what the first thing I want to do when I see one of those guys laying on its back with their tiny little legs stuck up in the air?


But I fight that impulse the same way I fight the urge to laugh in church or make small talk in elevators or buy clothing from Forever 21. I tenderly pick up those little stinkers in a wad of soft tissue and carry them to their watery grave. But all the time, I just wanna....


Some compadres thought the biggest challenge in the move from Sodom to the Land of Big Kitchens would involve moving from a place where the hooch was readily available--liquor stores on every block--to a Quaker town which is "dry." Racie Lover told me I better have extra bathtubs put into the house for the amount of gin I was going to need to make. Turns out that one of the things I miss The Most about my old life is the ability to spot a creepy crawly, look around, and throw anything really heavy in the vicinity at it. Like a brick. Or a dictionary. Or Sexyhusbandomine's laptop. And then just leave it, sitting in the middle of the floor, for Sexyhusbandomine to come home and deal with. All the while trying to ignore the pathetic twitching of the visible antenna and blocking out the sounds of a small insect heart beating beneath my floorboards.

WHeRe DiD YoU Go?

So where have I been all this time Chickens? I moved from the heart of New York City to a wonderful little town called (stalkers get your pencils ready) "15 MINUTES OUTSIDE OF PHILLY." (Come on now, I'm not stupid - I watched that Dr. Phil episode where the blogger revealed her address and people sent her flowers. And gifts. And Money. WHAT AM I SAYING??? EMAIL ME AND I'LL SEND YOU MY BANK ACCOUNT NUMBERS IMMEDIATELY. Yes, I'm talking to you, my faithful readers from Nigeria.)

Anyhoo- it's a beautiful town with a lot of history. It is a "walkable town" which would be great if I remembered how to do that. But apparently the first thing that goes when you move out to burbs is your ability to travel any distance on foot. There was a time when I would walk 20 city blocks and think nothing of it, now I send one of The Spawn to the mailbox. Which is a slot in the front door. Gawd, I'm exhausted just typing about it.



But the thing is: we've been here 6 months and I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE. I just recently learned how to work our dishwasher. (Apparently I was pushing the button that said cancel instead of the button that said start. It only took a few episodes of e coli to figure that tricky thing out.) So I am lucky there is an apartment over the garage because I am hoping Sexyhusbandofmine might get me one of these:



Although the whole "Go on Whoopie-Strike for two years to see if he'll get you a pool boy" thing didn't work out so well in the past. I have yet to even see a pool. But I have caught up on some sleep.

So I have a Plan B. It involves



I figure if I can just learn how to take those curves at 120 mph I should be ok for a trip to the grocery store. And I might even figure out which one is the gas pedal--the big one or the small one. Until then, I'll just have to get around town any way I can:

We'Re BAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKK

Hello Chickens. My goodness that was a long hiatus!! Perhaps I should not have pricked my finger on that spinning wheel I discovered up in the castle tower.

Nevertheless, here I am- back in the blogosphere. And after so much time...I still pretty much have absolutely nothing of interest to say. But it's a New Year!!!



Writing again on this blog is one of my RESOLUTIONS. I also resolve this year to...



A gal's gotta start somewhere. So happy new year. (please note that I typed that without any capital letters or exclamation marks- I am well on my way to tempering my enthusiasm. kicking the meth might be harder.)