possibly 2 wallpaper posts in one day is a bit much, but

[cimorene]

... this is just a portion of the 2 garbage bags + 1 human-being-sized roll of wallpaper we drove directly to the dump today. That's 3-4 layers from the dining room and 5-6 layers from the living room.



(Also gone: that black plastic chandelier you can see just a piece of. There was one of these in each of the rooms in question, both hung low enough to hit me on the head when I stood under them - I am under 5'7" -, both resembling nothing so much as disposable party decorations such as one would see at a prom or a new year's party, and both already broken when we arrived. The seller said she would come back later to remove them, but she wasn't fast enough for my taste.)

Comments

[phosfate]

I feel you. I'm 5'4". My house has maybe eight-foot ceilings. I inherited a brass and cranberry carnival glass chandelier with an acorn-shaped finial on the bottom. Mom made it for reasons. If I sit on the floor, I get that fucker in the front of the head every time I stand up. If I make the bed, I get it on the back of my noggin every time I fold another quilt and add it to the pile at the foot. If I get sleep paralysis, I get to watch a small dragon thing dance in it to terrible industrial music. If there's an earthquake (hey, it happened once!) I watch it swing and sway and wonder if it is going to impale me in the underpants. I did not sign on for this level of household jeopardy.

[cimorene]

That is a truly mesmerizing mental image, especially because I have to conclude the chandelier is... over 2' tall????

[phosfate]

I think it straddles 2' and then there's the chain.

The insane thing is our old house had high ceilings but she didn't make the thing until we moved. She had the cranberry shade for about 20 years from a semi-aunt's estate.

It drives me nuts because it's sort of horrible but sort of not and I'm just used to it now, like the giant ceramic rooster on top of the fridge. The rooster's name is Clint.

[cimorene]

My mom has a giant kitchen rooster too! I think he might not be on top of the fridge anymore, but he was for ages.

[phosfate]

She did that thing where she looked at giant ceramic chickens for months, until I was finally all, "Look, buy one if you like them, but please stop pointing at the giant ceramics with your cane." (That turned out to be a bad move on my part, because after that she used it to point at everything fragile in every store just to make me squeak, "Jesus Christ!")

[cimorene]

That must weigh a lot more than my mom's, then. Hers is papier mache.

Cane-waving sounds like a relatively nice, low-risk outlet for minor sadistic impulses, though. Actually the way you describe it it sounds like a lot of fun.