Stripes for the kitchen

Every time I upload photos from my camera (download, upload, it's all the same to me...up to my computer, down from the camera, blah...) I get a message telling me that there are duplicates and asking whether I want to re-upload them or not. (Because I don't delete the camera contents until I've printed out hard copies of the ones I want for my old-timey paper album, just in case something happens to the laptop.) Usually, I get the right answer to this question, and leave the duplicates alone. But every time I see the prompt I remember the time I uploaded a batch shortly after Mabel was born, when I gazed at the question in genuine puzzlement, unable to work out which way I should answer, and eventually chose poorly. Baby brain in action.

(There was also the time I couldn't for the life of me remember whether it was half as much water as rice, or the same amount, or twice as much. That was baby brain #1.)

Then I upload the photos and iPhoto promptly crashes, becasue it is the red-headed stepchild of iThings and I don't like it at all and it appears the feeling is mutual. (Sorry, Mr Jobs. Nothing personal.)

All that is to say that I just uploaded/downloaded yet more photos for your viewing enjoyment.

Remember back when we bought the house? And moved in? And had the bench made in the kitchen? (Hmm. Apparently I didn't blog that development, but it happened while we were away that summer.) And the next step was to get cushions for the bench? Well, here we are a mere year and some number of months later, and whaddaya know, we have cushions! I had known pretty much all along where I wanted to get them (www.customcushions.net) and the fabric I wanted, but I just kept procrastinating on finding the tape measure and clicking the Purchase button.

See the red/orange napkin over the back of the chair? That was my inspiration. I nearly second-guessed myself on the colours and went for something safer, but in the end I'm glad I stayed with my first choice.

Of course as soon as I took them out of the box, the children started to jump on them. But I'm hoping that once the novelty wears off, it might cut down the amount of walking all over the window seat that happens now. Don't disillusion me, 'kay?