Ferris Wheel Merry Christmas?

Captain’s Log    5,735

I got a wild hair yesterday morning and decided to rearranging my living room.  Which meant rearranging my guest room too because I brought the barber chair back out into the living room.  Why do I do such things?  Why?  Because I have a tendency to be impulsive at times.  Not overly so.  I am not impulsive about skydiving, eating goats,  or anything like that, but I AM impulsive when it comes to artistic or stylistic change.

And shoes.  Most definitely shoes.

So here is the Barber Chair with Buddha Zen Corner complete with orchid and translucent skeleton lights hanging in the window…….and two Steampunk top hats gracing the ends of the drapery rods (which you cannot see).  That’s how I decorate.  If I like something, it goes where I like to enjoy it.

buddha corner

I want my house to convey a sense of fun.  Shave and haircut, two bits!

I have always liked to hang things from rods and hooks in the ceiling.   Anything but plants.  I don’t like traditional decorating at all.  I have a wreath of rubber flip flops hanging on the wall by the piano, fer crissakes!  It’s a summer wreath for the door, so it will go back up when that season comes around again.  But for now, it’s a festive wall hanging.   Because I said so.

Where on earth did I find that barber chair?  At an abandoned naval training center building that used to house a barber shop and a bowling alley (and had been transformed into a lovely church where I was working at the time).  It was sitting in a hallway with a bunch of junk waiting to be discarded.  In a really impulsive moment, I grabbed it and dragged it into my office.  It lived there for a few years until it was time to move the church to a new location.  I paid some of my super strong male friends $10 apiece to move it to my house.  It’s not a fancy barber chair, but it is something fun and unique.  And I love it.

It’s back to the basics of work again.  The big park-wide holiday festival hits this coming Friday and Saturday, and that is always an enormous pain in the ass.  There is a midway set up right in front of the museum.   It’s gross and certainly not in keeping with holiday spirit and tradition at all.  

december nights ride

Cheap shit carnival rides from Florida.  Everyone’s holiday dream.

So off I go to conquer the challenges of this week.  The carnies move into the area on Wednesday afternoon.  They are a bit like gypsies.  I will admit I keep a respectful distance.


Friendly man waiting to take your money.

Let the games begin!



Filed under Captain Poolie's observations

12 responses to “Ferris Wheel Merry Christmas?

  1. It’s your house, you choose the decor. Simple. I like the barber chair and the wreath of sandals, top hats on the curtain rods, and other sundry goodies sound like your home is full of whimsy. Whimsy is good 😀

  2. joanie

    What a cool chair! It fits right in! I think it even has an ashtry on the arm, doesn’t it?

  3. It’s your house and your stuff. Why shouldn’t you arrange it the way you like it? I look forward to that kind of freedom soon.

    • poolagirl

      Some people are very “opinionated” when they come over to my house. Fie on that noise! So….you will be queen of your domain soon?

  4. Patty O'

    I couldn’t agree more: barber chair in the living room is GOOD! But oh dear for the Christmas carnies and the holiday midway. Sigh. I have not attended the event for years, mostly because I remember the earliest Christmas on the Prado celebrations with the ladies of the Historical Society baking gingerbread and the elderly British gentleman at the Museum of Man reading the charming tales of Paddington Bear to rapt crowds of children gathered at his feet. No problem parking. Not crowded. And all festive and with little commercialization…just food and hot drinks and families laughing and enjoying the fun. Sometimes the Good Old Days really were the Good Old Days.

  5. Penny Tushingham

    You obviously like your chair so it should be in the living room where you will see it and enjoy it each day!

    Pen Pen

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