Dance, dance. . .

How many of you, when you read the title of this post, think of Fall Out Boy? How many of you just read the words? How many of you hear your teen daughter tell you, "MOM, don't sing that!" whenever you sing the Fall Out Boy version?


This is my china hutch, bought from my friend, Bonnie. Until earlier this year when I purchased it, these dishes were kept carefully wrapped and protected in plastic containers. When my grandparents both died, my Aunties had the long and difficult task of going through their things and dividing them among the family. My Dad told them to give any dishes he'd be getting to me, his only daughter.
It was like Christmas, unwrapping these things when they arrived. How well I remembered them from Gram and Gramps! I added my own things, too. I just love old dishes! Notice anything strange about the placement?

Here's a closer look. Hmmm. . . . .a bare looking shelf . . . .

Hmmmm. . . .a crowded looking shelf . . . . .


To the left of the hutch is the opening to our living room. Our living room is where the band practices. Loudly.

The theory is, the dishes vibrate across the glass shelves and end up in one corner.

My theory is; they're forming a mosh pit.