This Couch is Stalking Me!

It’s true. I surf for sofas. I know exactly what I want…. and so does my phone. Let this be a warning to you.

Even if I lost my brain, my phone might serve as a decent substitute.

The couch I have zeroed in on pops up in my fitness app. (I know, you’re shocked I use a fitness app. Don’t worry, this is how I communicate with my mother.) That gorgeous sofa is the first thing I see when I log my coffee calories every morning, right under the person SLEEPING on the fitness app. Seriously, how do they know?

My Fitness Pal!

My Fitness Pal!

Who knew that an incognito browser was now required for online shopping, among other things? If you want your heart’s desires to be constantly flaunted, but still unattainable because you can’t afford them, then please continue browsing for stuff online while sipping your coffee. It’s fun, and will drive you to delete your Facebook app, once and for all.

This is it! Again!

What would happen if I actually bought that couch? (Or TWO because I want a matching pair to satisfy my increasing desire for order through symmetry.) I never should have searched “How to clean velvet.” For that matter, I should never search how to clean anything.

Would the ads stop? Would my phone leap out of my hands in a suicidal dive for the floor, taking my brain along with it? I wonder.

Cocoa on the couch

Cocoa on the couch opposite me and my coffee.

In the meantime I am sitting on my old couch, as comfy as Bilbo Baggins in his hobbit hole, still sipping my coffee.

Maybe it’s time for new pillows.

© Mariam d’Eustachio at Simply Turquoise 2019.

Inside the Hammock

I searched my blog only to discover I had forgotten to tell you about the hammock. Yes, the one inside the house.

It’s not a traditional style hammock, the type you hang between trees or suspend in a stand, but rather more like a hanging chair and it’s my favorite spot. 

My favorite spot.

My favorite spot.

It took awhile to get it right. At first, we bought a stand, but it broke. It bent under the weight of all the kids sitting in it, like a puppy pile-up.

Lounging teen.

Lounging teen.

Then we hung it from the ceiling and followed the directions to a T. My son ended up on the floor twice with the hardware barely missing his head. But I did not give up.
Hanging hammock chair.

Hanging hammock chair.


Finally we bolted it through the joist and used an aircraft-rated wing nut to hold it in place. We added a swivel device so the hammock could spin without unscrewing the mechanism. It’s worked and the hammock is secure now.

Inspired by Pinterest.

Inspired by Pinterest.


Inspired by Pinterest and because I owned one already, I threw a circular sisal rug under the hammock chair to define the space. It’s tucked away in the office area and near a window that looks out on the backyard. It’s the perfect quiet spot. 

A porch is perfect!

A porch is perfect!

If you have an engineer handy to help you install an indoor hammock, I highly recommend it. 

© Mariam d’Eustachio at Simply Turquoise 2016.

A Late Bloomer

Back in the day, in order to have green fabric, they used arsenic in the dye. Nowadays, we take this color thing for granted. We have every color in the rainbow available to us, minus the poison!

This is so technologically advanced, it blows my mind.

I have always had trouble knowing what my favorite color was. When people asked me that question, so seemingly simple, I would waffle. I had no idea. I liked them all. My kids begged me to tell them my favorite color and I couldn’t do it.

Ponies in the Marsh.

Ponies in the Marsh at Assateague State Park.

One day my husband said to me, “are you kidding me? You bought another green sweater? I think that’s a record.” It was true. I had fourteen green sweaters and it suddenly dawned on me… like a piece of information that had been hiding in the shadows, lurking.  I love green!  I knew it like I know my own name…. all of a sudden.

Green and grey eye candy.

Green and grey eye candy from Pinterest.

It hasn’t faded. Just like my color commitment phobia before, now I knew with certainty that I craved the color green. It embodies life itself. It represents the earth freshly watered and the grass after a storm. Green is a living color, the color of moss and trees, artichokes and asparagus, mojitos, margaritas and of course Kermit the Frog.

Emerald green!

Emerald green!

I held out on this life-altering decision, and like a late bloomer, am now longing for green. I want an emerald green sofa. I want to cast off the old “sofas should be neutral rule” so you can change the cheap things and instead bring green into my house like a tattoo I can’t easily get rid of. I want to commit to this color.

Green inspiration.

A painting on silk by my great grandmother Lela Knox.

  Perhaps this is a rebellion of sorts, a rebellion against the rules of design. But for me, there is no going back.

© copyright 2015 Mariam d’Eustachio at Simply Turquoise.

Clean House Junkie

I am bringing back an old post that still rings true and makes me laugh. Enjoy!

My husband will not let me play bingo. Ever. He knows I maintain a delicate balance between my religiously induced disciplines and a genetic predisposition to all sorts of addictions, including gambling. As long as I avoid temptation, I stay in balance. That is why I am no good at backgammon. I am not allowed to practice.

With a somewhat naturally addictive slant to my personality, I can take many things to an extreme that is not necessarily normal. I just read an article in “Real Simple” magazine (see link below) about how American wives are not happy because they spend too much time maintaining a clean house and helicopter parenting their children. We should instead drink wine and ignore our children like the French do and they would grow up to be well-adjusted, successful adults. I promise you I drink wine and ignore my children as much as possible, but so far the jury is out on how they will turn out.

I do love a clean house. The cleaner the house, the more I want to clean. It is never done. It causes me to crave cleanliness and to yell at everyone when they come in and drop their backpacks on the floor. The high from a clean house is cheap and leaves me wanting more. I am a clean-house junkie now craving the next fix. The problem is then I want to chase the dog with the vacuum and confine my children to their rooms. This is no good for anyone, even me, and I have to find balance.

Of course these periods of manic cleaning are more often followed by periods of complete inaction. I let things go until I am embarrassed by a neighbor who wanders over, or a friend who pops by, which causes me to spring into action. Usually just in time for their departure and once again only my family is around to witness the clean house and start the cycle all over again.

The healthiest form of cleaning for me involves changing things up. A quick rearrange of the furniture gets rid of the dust bunnies and provides a decorating change of scenery. I usually play around with the things I already have, just to see how it will look over here instead. I encourage you to try a new arrangement; you might surprise yourself. Don’t be wedded to the things you have had in the same spot for the last ten years. Change is good.

© 2012 Mariam d’Eustachio