This is my teapot:
It feels good in my hand when I pour the morning caffeine, and makes the perfect amount, exactly two big mugs of steaming hot black tea.
These are my glasses, the ones that are so light that I can't even feel them, that I love to wear while watching tv:
This is my awesome, dependable 163,000 mile, 15-year old car, or at least the inside of it. I've tried various kinds of glue and found that the stuff that comes in the neon blue stick works the best:
This is my couch. With enough old feather blankets and covers and pillows, it makes the broken frame in the middle seem like a big soft cocoon:
This is my bed. It's a loner from my brother, and way too fancy and tall for me. Yes, that's the head and foot boards propped up against the back wall. And yes, that's the box spring propped up against the other wall:
The box spring is much better served as Baby Wallace's majestic, manly Perch of Solitude than it's originally intended purpose:
And of course, this is another of Baby Wallace, his little weaselly cheeks puffed out from his latest dance with kitty herpes, this one entitled The Canker Sores Have Colonized.
And this of course, is Sweet Momma J, our official, reigning CrabbyPants, who loves to be lifted into this laundry closet/pantry, so that she is far, far away from the love bites and head locks of Baby Wallace, whose kittenish love she just ain't in the mood to grok:
And this is me, deep in the heart of boring down to the emotional and mental bedrock, while still making time for a photo op:
Life is good . . .