I thought I wouldn’t have this problem until we were all moved in, but I also thought the renovation would be done two weeks ago, so I guess it was to be expected.
Where are my glasses?
Tag: husband
My Drunk Kitchen: Reno Style
Hello from cold, dry Maryland! Kevin and I officially made the move last Saturday, so now we’ve spent a whole week in our new house.
Because we’ve immediately dived into some major house renovations, our entire kitchen at the moment is comprised of a 1.7 square foot fridge plugged in downstairs and a toaster oven we keep where the kitchen used to be- and will eventually be again. As you can imagine, this has forced us to get a little creative with our cooking. (Also, we’ve been eating out a lot.)
Mostly we’ve been doing a fair number of peanut butter and jelly- or grilled cheese- sandwiches. But we’ve also been watching a lot of My Drunk Kitchen- the Hannah Hart YouTube show where she gets drunk and cooks (shock!), with greater and lesser degrees of success. Something about binge-watching her show must have jump-started our creative brains, because dinner last night can only be described in MDK-sian terms.Read More »
The problem with money
My husband wrote this; if you like finance and money things, check him out!
Money is hard.
I am very privileged, and very lucky. I’ve not always been able to go out to restaurants whenever I’d like, or go on large, fancy vacations whenever I’d like, but I’ve certainly done enough of these things. I’ve also, whenever I’ve needed something big, like a car, or a bed, or a plane ticket, been able to purchase the item without worrying too much.
That’s not to say that I didn’t worry – I always worry – but, inevitably, the expenditure would be absorbed and I would go about my business. I’ve had very many safety nets, and I’ve always landed on my feet, despite the many poor financial decisions I’ve made. But now that I’ve spent most of my safety nets and most of my money on a house, and now that we’re moving across the ocean and across the continent to start (mostly) over, I’m…
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Bess Carnan 