I always wanted to be married to a Texan.

Yesterday was very exciting ... our shipping container from Bali finally arrived. We picked a few pieces when we were over there ... a new seat that everybody is banned from putting cushions on. If we make it too comfortable, the dog will make it her new home, and then it will start stinking of dog and nobody will want to sit there and the seat will be a waste.

Ha ... I just saw myself in that pic. Under my arm is paperwork for Rocco's passport (to go to Bali) ... except I can't find his birth certificate. Did I even get him a birth certificate? When WILL I be able to fill out his baby book without wanting to run screaming from the room?

I chose this next piece .... a really cool lamp stand, made from wood with a glass cover. We can get it wired up, or put a big candle inside it.

So, that was all. Until, a certain husband went back to Bali, returning with a big smile. "I picked something else for the shipping container, hon." He always picks big, when he goes shopping. I tell him he should have been a Texan.

A GONG. Um, what does one do with a gong in ones house? Gong the boys when dinner's ready? It's very beautifully made - wood and metal, with ornate gold trim.

Of course, it's a certain persons new favourite toy.

It's such an amazing, soothing sound. I wonder what musical note it is, because he has gonged it all day and I'm still not sick of it.

Yet.