Sometimes when traveling with one's spouse (and sponging off the corporate account) one runs into the coolest design (this would be because as a sponging spouse, one often has a bit of time on one's hands because one's spouse is actually working... but that is just a detail).

While meandering the Art Deco/Art Nouveau city of Helsinki in April 2008 eating my snack of Reindeer jerky and looking for Cloudberry jam or maybe a set of Marimekko ear muffs (just to fit in), I happened upon the most perfect Amoeba sink.

Next I'm on the hunt for a Paramecium bath...

While drinking my morning tea and re-setting my circadian rhythms for 30 minutes with my beloved blue light, I always notice the Edwardian fireplace "featured" in our living room. The mantle is painted a basic shade of black (save the faux marble designs which are made to look like the real marble inset - can you tell which one is real?) and it has rusting iron insert with these horrid flowery granny tiles. Additionally, whatever ancient system that was supposed to keep the chimney gunge way up in the chimney has clearly failed. Thus some swift-thinking fireplace expert shoved several orange recycling bags up the chimney to hold back the flow of 100-year-old debris from falling into our living room. Depending on how much the wind is blowing, one can see just enough of the orange recycling bag creature as it breathes in and out of the chimney entrance.

For almost a year now, I have looked at this fireplace while sipping my tea and wondered "What can I do to make this Edwardian monstrosity in my living room look just a bit better? Gut it? Paint it? Get some new tiles? Bring back some black Rust-o-leum from the US? Or maybe just paint the tiles?" Luckily, there does exist an inspiring British invention of tile paint, which was clearly brought into being due to situations just like these... 

As my longest living pet (17 years and counting), I am happy to announce that the son-of-purple clover is moving up the evolutionary chain with 4 growing leaves (note: there are 2 little ones that are hard to see in the picture). The parent of Son-of-purple clover, Purple Clover, does not admit any knowledge of how this son was conceived or when it was illegally smuggled across the pond to England. Purple Clover continues to reside and thrive with Father-of-Lorie in Berkeley.