Random Thoughts: Insulating Felt Panels? and Apartment 2.0

I saw these felt wall panels on Oh Joy! the other day. They're from British designer Selina Rose, and I think they're kinda gorgeous.

I doubt I could actually afford these particular hangings, but I wonder if I could do something similar. Windsor Button sells some pretty big swatches of felt. With a simple stencil and an x-acto knife, I bet I could craft something fun.

I wonder if these would help insulate windows during the winter? I'm SERIOUS! Yes, I know it's summertime. A gal's gotta think ahead is all I'm saying.

The Engineer and I are making a real effort to redecorate the apartment and make it feel more like a...well....like a home. Until now, we've been fairly happy with the odds n' ends that we've picked up at Goodwills and yard sales over the years. Happy in that everything functioned (with the exception of certain toasters who will not be named), was in fairly decent condition, and wasn't overly unstylish.

But with "Moving-In-Together: Take 2" we're thinking it's time to upgrade. The Engineer is calling this new phase "Apartment 2.0." Because he's a geek like that. So sweet.

Looking around the apartment, we realized that everything--with a very few exceptions--has been given to us by family or been acquired for less than $10. We're talking the couch, our lamps, the fairy lights over the door frame, the poster in the entryway, everything.

That's kind of sobering. And it makes me feel a bit sad. Don't get me wrong--we've been incredibly grateful for the generosity of our families over the years. But it's a strange thing to look around and realize that nothing is really ours. I would like to live in a house that feels like ours.

On top of this, I had the startling realization the other day that I no longer qualify as a "recent college graduate." While I'm not the type to fret about growing older, this does still strike a certain resonance in me. It's a bit like shedding a too-small pair of pants. Or cleaning your glasses after being caught in rainstorm.

It's disconcerting, though. I mean, if I'm no longer defining myself as "A," then what becomes "B"? I guess you could call this a feeling of nesting. Or settling down. Or growing up.

So. There you have it.