This is what passes for fun at the Smith household most Friday nights–pile all the couch cushions on the floor and try not to break your collarbone as you jump into them. So far, so good!

29 May
This is what passes for fun at the Smith household most Friday nights–pile all the couch cushions on the floor and try not to break your collarbone as you jump into them. So far, so good!

29 May
I have a penchant for unusual furniture—an old desk from my Dad’s one-room schoolhouse, a church pew, a door-turned-headboard—and now, my most recent acquisition:

I got this library card catalog on an auction recently, and Bryan and Tom helped me move it into it’s place in our dining room earlier this week. I love it, but it’s quite a bit bigger than I thought it was.
Now, I’m torn—there’s really no other place to put it, unless I move the hutch next to it. The issue here? There’s no place for it to go except the basement. I have a sentimental attachment to the hutch—my great grandfather stained and varnished it for my Great Grandma Wallen—and it houses my wedding china. Plus, Dave bolted it to the wall three years ago.
I would really like to have the catalog in that room—in my mind, it will look something like this once it’s all set up. In reality, it will probably house Barbie clothes, random puzzle pieces and the 18-month-old who scaled the open drawers and has perched on the top.
My solution is to cut it in half (circular saw?) just above the pull-out shelves and use it as a bench behind our love seat:

I think it would be quaint and interesting—Bryan thinks it would be impossible to get a clean and even cut.
What do you think? Any ideas?
Update: Here’s a similar treatment.
29 May
Things I’m almost positive I’ve heard Olivia say in the last day and a half:
“I see the kitty!”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“I want to go outside.”
These all sound relatively reasonable, but I also think she said “What’s up?,” so I realize there’s a margin of error.