"Federal agent by day, decorator by night."
Bart earned that nickname way back during our first posting in Moscow, when our friend John stopped by and caught Bart rearranging furniture and hanging pictures. Then another agent asked him to stop by their house and give some decorating tips, which he promptly and successfully did.
It's lucky for me, too, because the decorating gene seems to have skipped me. If I walk into a room, I'm able to say if I like it or not, but I'm not able to explain why.
That's just one reason why I hate unpacking. There are piles of things everywhere - knickknacks and books and pictures - and I haven't the slightest idea where any of it should go. I usually get to work in the kitchen, because that's pretty much the same everywhere, and Bart gets to organize the rest of the house.
We're still buried alive under our HHE, but we have a long weekend coming up, so I have high hopes that it won't be long before we're looking settled.
(We still don't have our car, though, and I've been told to expect a few more weeks of car-less-ness. Sigh. Have I mentioned that I don't much like taxis? I'm from Los Angeles, after all, so public transportation is still a foreign concept, even after all these years of metros and subways and taxis and those scary Armenian buses with the gas tanks strapped to the roof.)
Here's a whole pile o stuff on the dining room table. But note the china cabinet in the background is orderly!
Somebody has to hang all of these pictures. Where's my dad when you need him?
Tires? Do we really have tires in the middle of the study?
Hey! Our Chinese lamps n things made it intact!