Things That Are Bad For Me That I Want... Now.

Perhaps this is just me, so let me know, okay?

I've been longing for Italian cigarettes, limoncello (the bottle I bought here is still more than half full in the freezer, which should tell you something, right?) and my little apartment terrace in Rome.

Every single time I see a box of the good old Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, I want to prepare it and eat the entire package by myself. Needless to say, we don't keep that in stock around here.

Yes, I moved the *new* sofa into the den and moved the den sofa to our storage unit (while the son was here to help), so the living room has returned to the way it was before, except that SD agreed to take our Sony sound system and the 2 (large) speakers and all of our vinyl records from days gone by. Believe me, she now has a treasure trove of the 60's and 70's music She also took some framed prints and a few other things, further ridding us of more junk. The son took all of our old Revereware pots & pans and was thrilled to have them (almost as much as I was glad to be rid of them).

After finding Bufala (Buffalo/Bison) mozzarella at Central Market in San Antonio, I made homemade pizza with it and still have another ball of it left. Decisions, decisions.

Now, I'm craving that blue cheese with bluberries in it too.

Chili. Mmmmm.... Can't wait to make some hot, hearty chili. It's been a really *chilly* November, so I've been making use of the time not spent at the golf course. Also, Mr. Snooty did something to his neck & hasn't been able to play in quite a while, so golf has taken a backseat to our everyday lives and all its little dramas.

So I continue to think about things like Boeuf Bourgonionne. Potato soup. Chicken Soup. Wait. Just. One. Minute. This sounds like poundage in the making, does it not?. I need to stop this train of thought before it gets totally out of control.

Longing for some herbed brie with crackers as well as caviar on crackers. Dammit! Stop..

Someone needs to stop me. Or else, I need to stop myself. I'll end up weighing 250 pounds with my mind in the cuisine gutter like this.

I'm in big trouble, aren't I? What is wrong with me? Is there even a cure other than exercise (since I have such great difficulty doing anything besides swimming or snow skiing)? Yawn. So, I've been cleaning; ruthlessly this time. I've been giving all my throw-aways to my housekeeper, who has been in Heaven. I wonder if she'd just work for goods? Probably not.

What is it about this time of year, autumn, that makes me want to eat back those inches I worked so hard to lose this last summer? God help me. I'm not a Grizzly Bear going into hibernation for Heaven's sake. I think I need to get a real life. Or my own pool.

At any rate, I've cleaned places that haven't been cleaned in maybe 15 years and I mean a deep down cleaning, not just band-aid cleaning like the housekeeper does once a week. We'd forgotten we even had a wet bar, it's been hidden by *junk* for so long. Honestly, I've scared myself beyond belief this last month as I've attempted to rid us of all this *stuff*. I'm beginning to doubt my own sanity at letting it all get so bad. Of course, blogging hasn't exactly helped.

Being in the same house for 24 years allows one to stuff things in every little nook and cranny, which is, quite honestly, totally nutso. You also tend to forget where you stuffed things in an attempt to make your house look presentable to guests (as long as they don't open any closets or cabinets). You still have to eventually pay the piper and go through all that you hastily hid away, at some point. That time, for me, has come and I'm paying out the wazzoo, trust me. And, I finally parted with my 20 year collection of Martha Stewart Living magazines. How crazy is it that I kept them for so long? Don't answer that, please. My daughter already gave me that oh-yeah-she's-crazy-look and ordered me to get rid of them. I stacked them all by the front door and hubby took them to the recycle bin before I could have a change of heart. I detest my tables in the den but the son has expressed an interest in acquiring them once we move (if we ever move). Hubby just wanted to throw both tables away, so this makes me much happier. I'm tired of living in a *throw-away-world*, even when it isn't good furniture.

In spite of the fact I've been collecting hoarding for many years, somehow my greater common sense kicked in when I realized how badly I want out of this house that's truly meant for a large family, not empty-nesters. I've been cleaning out dust bunnies the size of baseballs, which makes me so completely ashamed of myself and how bad I've let things get. I keep wondering how I could have lost the pride I once had in my home. Oh. That's right. Life kept getting in the way. I was so depressed for a few years, which basically interfered with normal life as I knew it. That has all changed now. I feel like a furniture warrior, whether I am or not (which I highly doubt).

The other day I was trying to figure out what my decorating *style* is. Hmmmm... The conundrum is that my style is basically whatever we inherit from relatives and whatever is cheap enough to get by on until we could afford something better. Thank God the time that we can afford something better has finally arrived. So, I want to take things slowly until I get my decorating footing....