Sometimes I think I was really supposed to be a young adult in the 70's. I owned too many funky-floral dresses. Some of which in college required, well, less support than others. I prefer no make-up and find I am one of few of my acquaintances to be content with long, straight hair- rarely styled. Ok, never styled.
Before living in NY I was pretty laid back and truly loved everyone I met. I even had a bumper sticker on my car once with a tie-dyed sun on it and probably some others among the 200+ stickers that would further prove I was born into the wrong generation.
This is why I think we were destined to live in our current home. It's totally a 70's pimp plaza. Complete with wet bar in the living room. I love the mirror wall with decorative gold embellishment and wood burning oven. The peep hole in the front door is like a captain's telescope on a ship. It moves! You can look up, down, or either side. Each time I look out of it I imagine a pimped-out guy with shiny white loafers and a half-buttoned polyester shirt, tight white pants once stood there watching his guests arrive for a groovy party.
I am only slightly curious what the original kitchen looked like, but I bet it was pretty cool. I prefer the current update, though, cos it completes me. I never thought I would feel this way about a kitchen. Mike has to lure me away from it with chocolate or his pimp-like moves.
We so belong here. The house totally says: 'Fullers. Where have you been all my life?'
