Would you burn your diaries?

After my grandmother died a couple of years ago I realized how much stuff we leave behind and how hard it is for our loved ones to deal with it all. And my grandmother was actually someone who made it easy. My grandfather had been a post-depression-era hoarder. He knew what it was like to go without things, so he kept as many things as he could in his basement, attic, and garage. You know, in case of some post-apocalyptic scenario in which back issues of "National Geographic" from 1977 could suddenly be used as currency.

So after he died my grandma got rid of a ton of stuff. Then when she moved to assisted living she got rid of a little more. And then when she sold her house even more, and so on. But we were still left with random things like rulers. She had three rulers. I didn't need one, yet it made me so sad to get rid of them. I want to make sure Tate has as few of those decisions to make someday, so I try to keep things pretty purged as I go.

And that brings me to my diaries.

Blurred lines: how to make yourself crazy trying to sew striped curtains that kind of remind you of Robin Thicke's suit at the VMAs

Our place desperately needed curtains, both from an aesthetic perspective and because I can feel actual gusts of wind blowing through our less-than-stellar windows on cold days. I knew I wanted striped ones, but these from Crate and Barrel are nearly $100 a panel (!), and since I need six to eight panels that just wasn't going to happen.

So I got some tips from the good people on Pinterest, and looky what I made:

Details below the break.

Grab some popcorn and a Snuggie, it's Hallmark holiday movie time!

Remember that craptastic holiday movie I meant to write for the Hallmark channel last year? Well neither did I, but if I had written it why couldn't have it been this one? A young woman tries to escape a childhood spent working on her family's Christmas tree farm only to be forced to return to the biz when she loses her job. Of course, this makes her a little "fir crazy." Ba-da-bum. I am guessing the dude pictured above and kissing also play into the story. Ah, holiday magic.

Are you middle-aged?

Recently we had friends over for dinner and I was describing someone no one else in the room knew. I said "He's kind of middle-aged...you know, around my age." One of my friends laughed and said that I wasn't middle-aged. Which was reassuring, but was he right? If you look at average life expectancy I'm over halfway there. So I searched the 'net and found this British article that helped me figure it out for sure.