This is the sort of house I mean by salt box house. They're called salt box as they resemble the boxes where salt was stored once upon a time.

After stopping by work for a bit yesterday, I went furniture shopping up and down Miramar, which is near the office. I found the couch of my dreams, but it has a nightmare price: $1,500 -- and that's on sale. So after sitting in it several times, I sighed and went down the street before I did anything so foolish like buy the thing. I wandered into a store I'd never heard of before, Tuesday Morning. It's a small-scale Ross/TJ Max, without the emphasis on clothing. I got a variety of picture frames to try out on Suz's piece, a spiffy lap desk (so the laptop fan can breathe without burning a hole in my lap), some kitchen utensils and a gorgeous little Winnie the Pooh teapot, all for $40.

Buoyed by shopping success, I went further down the road to a strip mall of nothing but furniture places, and there I found my dining chairs. I really liked the ones Broos and I picked out at Ikea, but since there is apparently no day upon which these particular chairs would ever be in stock again, I resigned myself to looking elsewhere. My new chairs have a wrought iron frame and a thick fabric cushion. Indeed, the cushion is much thicker than the one I sat upon in the showroom, and I'm hoping some sitting will squish these down just a fraction as they're higher than I'd like. I almost left the shop after the salesperson told me that they wouldn't get any of these in for at least two weeks, perhaps more. Shades of Ikea!

"I'm having company come to visit on the 19th," I said, trying to make Rob's visit sound like a family reunion with second-cousins and all. I asked to buy the floor models; the salesperson demurred and said she'd check with the manager. She returned a bit later and announced that amazingly, four of these chairs had been found in the warehouse. Amazing! ;)

So my outside chairs are now outside. I have four lovely inside chairs that need some sitting upon. A pair of doves are building a nest in the eucalyptus outside my window, sending Mittens into a frenzy of longing for the good outdoors. Suz's needlework is framed and hanging in my hallway. I sat and looked at it last night and had a good missing her cry, then went back to screwing together chairs. I sincerely hope I will buy a couch that does not include on the label the words, "assembly required."