I feel like doing some decking. Where are my halls?
Well, if you've been to our tiny student housing not-family-intended apartment, you'll know I have no halls. Just three squished together rooms.
That's right. No halls to deck. Woe is my halls.
I've also rearranged the place to death, in attempts to make it feel bigger, homier, and spacious...uh...er. I've rearranged out any possible place to put up a Christmas tree.
Which sounds like reason enough to me to move. So that's just what we'll do. Hopefully within the next 12 hours. Ok, days.
It's soon to be more populated around here too. Yaya, my lovely Mama, is moving in, much to the joy of Dizzle and Boogie. They think she's the cat's pajamas.
This morning we're looking at what I hope is the place. So I'm asking you, lovely readers, to send happy homey thoughts our way. Work up some magical manifestation and make it so that the sweet house we're seeing this morning isn't what it seems: too good to be true.
We feel like there must be a catch. Here's hoping the catch is neighbors who bake, a generous philanthropist down the block looking for an earnest family to whom she can bequeath her millions, or a room in the attic with a porthole to magical lands.