My male readers deserve to know this invaluable secret. (Who am I kidding? I have three male readers, and two of them are gay. Anyhoo.)
P posted here about how Fauxhawk salvaged the day from hell with a stiff drink and an Ikea shelf. So I feel compelled to tell my story.
A year + ago, H-town and I moved in together with nothing but my bed, my dresser, my little desk, and quite a few boxes of crap. Shortly after, I went away to a theater festival in Edinburgh and he did some serious nesting. Adorable, but a bit nerve-racking for both of us. (I'm a control freak and I'd never officially lived with anyone. Or let anyone else pick out the furniture.)
He kicked ass. He was most proud of his thrift store finds: yellow vinyl chairs and a white pedestal table. But I could not get over the shelf made from a salvaged wine box he put up in the bathroom. Seriously. It was all about the shelf.
Recently, he put up another wine box shelf for me next to my desk in the kitchen. The bungalow is on the small side, but we're making it work....
It's killing me that I didn't tear out this New Yorker cartoon last year: the female praying mantis says to the male praying mantis, "After we have sex and before I kill you, I want you to put up some shelves." I bet my mom saved it.
(Photo: Phil Mansfield for The New York Times via 2 or 3 things I know)