Chicken? Where?

Mourn with me.

My Georgia mug broke.

Despite repeated resuscitation efforts she passed beyond my reach Sunday at about 3:30.

At about 4:30 I went and bought a new one. Seen to the left here is my new mug which Mr. Logo immediately started eyeing up longingly. I am still adjusting to the differences but I have high hopes that my sunshine mug and I will have a long and fulfilling relationship. One of the nice things about the new mug is that it requires less explanation. There were usually questions about why someone from the NW who had never lived or vacationed in Georgia (although my cumulative time spent in the Atlanta airport accounts for enough of my life to equal a vacation the stress level of those moments disqualify them) would have a mug from there especially given my feelings about the south in general. I just liked it! It was purchased in the Atlanta Airport, that swirling vortex of torture and mayhem. It was built over a portal to hell is all I can conclude. There is something of mythical proportion about trying to find one's way through corridors so long you can actually see the curvature of the earth, desperately racing to traverse multiple concourses to reach a connecting flight in the space of ten minutes and then languishing for hours after the flight is cancelled, delayed or sent on without you. I can't talk about it anymore, it's making my eye twitch.
To more pleasant matters...
This is how my entryway looked Sunday night.
We purchased paint, flooring, a new light fixture and set to work tearing it apart. The Things have been removing nails from the trim and I have been painting. This is what it looked like yesterday afternoon. It's not quite done yet.
I finished the ceiling and most of the wall yesterday. We will be doing the trim and the doors next. The new light fixture can go in now that the ceiling is dry but the floor will wait till the weekend when Mr. Logo will install it. I love painting, it's such visual, immediately-gratifying work. Mr. Logo and I tend to paint in much different ways. He takes his time, paints with precision, and purses his lips. I spent more time than he does laying drop clothes, taping, and I always have a wet rag handy but I actually paint faster than he does. But he doesn't really like to paint so over the course of our marriage a great deal of the wall painting has occurred when he is away. He also appreciates the end result more when he doesn't have to watch the process. Well, I have to go. If the weather cooperates today I hope to get the exterior of the front door started. I'm VERY excited about the color of that. Pictures to follow when its done!