
We managed to find time this weekend to finally get the curtain hardware and curtain panels hung in the master bedroom, guest room, and living room. The weekend was dreary, and it was a perfect time to work indoors.
I was rewarded for my hard work this past weekend by bright sunshine peering in through filtered white lace this morning. The house looks so much less "naked" now, and I quickly took a picture of the guest room (not yet finished) so you could enjoy the airy room with me.

My husband isn't a fan of shabby chic, so the guest room is sort of my "play room". Not that he is a fan of deer heads either!!! He happens to prefer more traditional decor, and leans toward formal- even Victorian. I tend to like both, so having the guest room for my romantic tendencies and the rest of the house more Victorian suits me just fine. And he is particularly patient with my love of mounds and mounds of frilly feminine pillows which can be found in every room of our home! Neither of us can even fit on the sofa without moving a few ruffled necessary fancies aside. Heh. I love the idea of a sinking into a pile of lush downey pillows when tired, or settling down with a nice book for a pleasant afternoon respite with tea in hand, but, they are seldom functional and often when I do try to settle into the pillows in my current fat preggy state, I end of toppling to one side and asking my husband to help reposition ME.
The twinkies and I had a pleasant squealing match this morning. They both speak "babble squeal" now. The one comment I consistently get about them (after "Are they twins?" "Are they Identical?" and "Whose older?") is "My, they are LOUD babies". It is true. Neither of the grandmothers will take credit for this either, although they are quite willing to duke it out over where Lucas inherited his cleft chin (my dad), or Matilda's colouring (Duane). To the high pitch constant squealing they both say "None of my babies were ever like THAT!!!" And "I hope they grow out of it!!!".
Well, I *do* take credit, and attribute it to how wildly happy we are, and the fact that they are free to express themselves as much and as voluminously as possible. I only find it even remotely awkward when we are in restaurants and one of them discovers that they would like to announce their happiness to the surrounding patrons. Hmpfh.
Off to feed the twinkies breakfast- its pears, oatmeal, and cinnamon this a.m., then nap time!





