When I was 16 my topiary tree died. It made me pretty sad. I left it where it was in my room and watched the leaves curl up and deluded myself that it still looked nice despite. I had to be careful not to bump it, or all the leaves would fall off. But finally, one too many bumps later it was bare. Then I got the brilliant idea to grow ivy in the base and make it look alive again. That worked out thru college until I left my poor ivy alone too long over Christmas Break. Again, I watched the leaves curl up and bumped it too much.
Still, I couldn’t throw my good friend out. I remember trying to explain this to my new husband when we were moving and the particularly unimpressed look on his face. He’s a good guy though, and I managed to preserve the topiary tree once again.
Finally I got a bright idea. Like I do with all my crafty projects, I roped one of my parents into working for me. After I trimmed the little tree up a bit, my Dad attached the poor guy to a fantastic hand crafted base. Thanks, Dad. A perfect jewelry tree.
It’s been a good 12+ years, and I’m still rockin’ it with my dead topiary. He has survived seven moves.
Check him out:
I inherited all that bling from my beautiful Aunt Kay. She was expertly accessorized.
While I’m at it, here is our fancy little personal bathroom:
That’s a wine box I snuck from Sam’s club holding our towels. I painted white over the wine label so I didn’t have to look at Veo Grande while I’m brushing my teeth and all that. I mounted that kitchen organizer from IKEA here because 1. we didn't have any storage to speak of in that bathroom, and 2. while in its previous location in the kitchen, Everett had taken a fancy to pulling a chair up to the island and emptying the container’s contents whenever the notion struck him and I was all done with that.
And my fantastic pink shower. This might be my favorite place in our house.
Oh, sweet solitary luxury.
