Iss came downstairs this afternoon because she cannot resist the temptation of hanging pink lanterns in trees and tying organza bows on anything that doesn't move out of the way. She is nice to have around.
As we were decorating for Lucy's party, Iss caught sight of the soundboard tucked discretely into the corner of our dining room. Orange cables led from it to big speakers on stands in the garden. I use the term "garden" loosely.
I had asked Chris to put some speakers outside so I could hook up my iPod and play music appropriate for a Cinderella Ball. Instead, I got a full-fledged p.a. system. I am not sure what a Cinderella Ball playlist entails, mind you, so I included Weezer's "Island in the Sun" in the mix. I think that would have endeared Cinderella to the Prince even more. And the Prince and Cinderella would have lived happily ever....
"You two are made for each other," says Iss, still looking at the uber-dorky sound setup. I turn on her.
"Take that back!"
She says nothing, but points to the coffee pot I've set up next to the soundboard. It is, maybe, a trifle over the top. It is not my fault.
I like it when you go to a kid's party and there's a little something for the parents - something not made with strawberry fluff and something which may be scalding hot and containing caffeine. I think it's a nice gesture. But I use a french press and I would have spent the whole day in the kitchen filling orders, so I called Cape Cup and asked if they sold hot pots to go.
They do. So I scurried over, and picked one up:
It's two feet tall and holds 17 cups of coffee. Delicious, organic, locally roasted, Sumatra coffee. It is the coffee equivalent of Chris' speaker setup.
In our defense, these quirky things make a big difference. I was feeling a little like we weren't giving it proper effort as we set up for the party this morning. Then Chris put up the speakers and queued a playlist and it completely changed our yard. Suddenly, our yard was a place I'd like to hang out in. It reminded me of Lucy's third birthday, at the end of which we put her to bed and then collapsed in the yard and listened to music (the overkill speakers go outside with regularity). Like the chickens, music makes the whole house make sense.
We do not yet have a stereo hooked up inside. Chris promises me there will be a properly wired system (from which no cables will be pirated) once the livingroom shelves are painted.
We shall see. He's still my uberdork and I wouldn't put it past him to wire it through the lawn mower. Or maybe a Gaggia espresso machine, if I'm lucky.